Chapter 270: The Rat and the Shark
[TARGET STATUS VIEW: HECTOR PEREZ]
Affection %: 5%
Lust %: 0%
Trust %: 12%
[PREFERENCES]
Love Type: Clinical Sadism / Aristocratic Control Complex
Erotic Weakness: Dominance Over Inferiors + Hidden Impotence Compensation
Position Preference: Psychological degradation / Verbal humiliation of victims (Primary Focus: Victoria Grave)
→ IN-SCENE TRIGGER EVENTS
Positive:
→ Maintaining a calm, highly ambitious ’street-rat’ persona → +5% Affection, -10% Trust (Suspicion)
→ Exposing his underlying psychological impotence verbally → -70% Affection, -90% trust (Immediate mental breakdown / Enraged status)
→ Displaying sudden, brute physical force or baseline disrespect → -10% Affection
→ Mentioning Victoria’s financial independence or contract favors → - 7% Trust, +10% Lust (Obsession spike)
→ RISK FACTOR:
Hector feels absolute disgust toward individuals with a visibly strong will who openly resist his status.
Nash’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits as the data crawled across his vision. But still... What a shock. Hector wasn’t just another wealthy, arrogant suit from the Upperworld who happened to hold a big ledger. The guy was deeply, pathetically deranged, a clinical sadist whose whole sense of masculinity, power, and even physical virility was entirely twisted, locked behind a sick need for control and the degradation of people he considered underneath his shoes.
The guy may have cummed when he was harassing Victoria.
But Hector didn’t break his calm, pleasant posture. True to his elegant design, he maintained a totally relaxed, effortless smile. His emerald eyes were bright, warm, and welcoming as he gestured toward the empty leather seat across from him with a slow wave of his hand.
"Please, sit," Hector murmured, his melodic, smooth voice echoing softly against the white granite floor. "We have a lot of lost ground to catch up on, Nash. And I absolutely hate rushing through a proper introduction."
As Nash sat down, immaculate waiters dressed in white silk coats began moving around the table like ghosts. They served dishes of an absolute, obscene luxury, plates of hyper-refined beef from the Upperworld and a vintage ambré wine that probably cost more than Hangar 47’s entire yearly operating budget.
Hector picked up his glass, swirling the liquid with an elegant, slow motion. His emerald eyes locked onto Nash with a friendly, relaxed warmth.
"You know, Nash, most people down there view Breakball as a brute’s game," Hector began, his voice smooth and melodic. "Just raw muscle throwing a ball into a net. But when I watch your streams? It feels like a high philosophy. The way you scan the court, that unique spatial awareness... it is pure art. You operate on a completely different frequency than the standard bums down in the dirt."
"The court is just math," Nash replied calmly, taking a slow sip of the wine, hoping there weren’t rodenticide in it. His face remained an imperturbable mask of ice. "You read the variables, you execute the path. Simple as that."
Hector chuckled softly, leaning back in his leather chair. His smile remained completely relaxed, but the hidden venom began to slip out.
"Exactly. Math. Which is why it completely baffles me to see an asset of your caliber tethered to such a clumsy, outdated manager. A failing, desperate director who thinks she can hide her past failures in the mud of the mid-tiers."
Nash’s eyes narrowed. He sat completely still, but behind his eyelids, the blue-night interface of the System was doing it’s magic.
There was just... One little problem, this guy’s mind.
Attempting to flatter Hector’s ego would trigger immediate malus in each of his stats.
Nash’s jaw tightened slightly behind the rim of his glass.
For one bonus, I get a malus in another state, Nash thought, his mind dissecting the data.
If I play nice to win his Affection too fast, his Trust will drop to zero because he’s such a weirdo. In fact... I don’t need it. I don’t need affection. I have to prioritize Trust. I need him to think I am an ambitious, greedy rat. Strong enough to be valuable, but entirely selfish enough to be bought.
"A player goes where the infrastructure works, Perez," Nash said, his voice dropping into a lazy, unbothered drawl. He didn’t defend Victoria. He didn’t even mention her name. "Blacklist gave me a court when I was cut. Right now, they’re paying the bills. But I’m always open to looking at a better court."
"A pragmatic stance. I respect that," Hector smiled, clearly pleased by the rat’s apparent greed. He didn’t notice the silent battle happening right next to him.
Monique was sitting completely stiff, doing everything in her power to rebuild her corporate shield. Her Lust was still sitting at a dangerous 76% after the raw, physical deconstruction Nash had handed her down by the elevators. She forced her face into an icy, professional mask, trying to act like the high-level Strategic Director of Apex Records.
But Nash, and his habit of dealing with more than one at once, didn’t let her breathe. While he maintained easy, direct eye contact with Hector, his eyes would occasionally slice right through Monique’s mask, locking heavily onto her features.
Underneath the heavy linen tablecloth, Nash casually crossed his long legs, deliberately sliding his knee against the smooth, golden fabric of her dress, applying a steady, heavy friction.
[TARGET MONITORING: MONIQUE DE LA BITE]
→ Involuntary postural shift detected under table contact.
→ Lust %: 76% → 78% (+2%)
→ Trust %: 36% → 32% (-4%)
Monique shifted uncomfortably on her leather cushion, her thighs pressing tightly together under the gold dress as she felt the heavy, suffocating warmth of his leg keeping her anchored.
She was completely terrified that Hector would notice her sudden lack of professional composure, but Hector had other battles tonight.
Thoroughly satisfied with his own speech, Hector rested his chin on his manicured fingers and smiled. He reached into his coat and slid a premium, glowing digital data-block across the table, placing the "cheese" right in the middle of the table.
"Let us simplify the layout, Nash," Hector said smoothly, his emerald eyes bright with artificial warmth. "Apex wants your contract. Sign this, and you walk away with an upfront advance of several million credits, a permanent luxury estate inside the highest sector of the Spires, and absolute administrative authority over the entire Baby-Boom project. Aiko, Rei, the whole roster... they will belong entirely to you. All you have to do is dissolve your ties with Blacklist before the upcoming qualification block."
The moment the data-block touched the wood, a loud, familiar chime echoed behind Nash’s eyes.
[SPECIAL QUEST AVAILABLE]
QUEST: The Serpent’s Delay
OBJECTIVE: Force Hector Perez to halt the immediate signing of the contract through verbal dominance.
REWARD: +5 SP / +5 PP / Unlock New Passive
BONUS OBJECTIVE: Create a high-tension psychological breakdown that forces a direct submission event from a secondary target.
BONUS REWARD: +5 SP / Unlock New Passive
STATUS: Active
Nash stared at the glowing contract, his dark grin hidden behind his calm face as the first part of the game took place.
The real verbal battle was here. Nash leaned back into his leather chair, completely calm as he pushed the digital data-block a few inches away with a casual, dismissive flick of his finger. He wasn’t playing by Hector’s corporate rules, and he wasn’t going to let the prince dictate the pace.
"The credits are a decent entry fee, Perez," Nash rasped. "But money doesn’t cover everything. Working for Victoria has... unique benefits. The kind of private, special favors that an Upperworld contract doesn’t list on paper."
Click.
The word favors hit Hector’s psychological anomaly like a physical blow. The relaxed, elegant smile instantly froze on his handsome face. His jaw convulsed, locking tight as his emerald eyes turned entirely to ice.
The air in the private pavilion became suffocatingly cold. Even Monique completely panicked, her posture freezing, her eyes widening as she recognized the exact topic that could get them all in big trouble.
His dark, incestuous obsession with his half-sister was a raw, bleeding nerve, and Nash had just stepped right on it with a heavy boot.
[TRIGGER EVENTS CONTEXT: REAL-TIME PENALTY VIA OBSESSION BLOCK]
→ Mentioning Victoria’s favors directly to Hector.
→ Trust %: 12% → 5% (-7%)
→ Affection %: 5% → 5% (0%)
→ Lust %: 0% → 10% (+10% Obsessive/Toxic spikes)
Before the cold atmosphere could snap completely and Hector could maybe erase him, Nash, having fun rage baiting himw offered a lazy, completely cynical smirk.
"But honestly? It’s an absolute pain in the ass," Nash continued, letting out a frustrated sigh as he played the greedy rat perfectly. "The woman is cold as stone. I haven’t managed to get her into my bed once. It’s an immense, draining frustration dealing with her proud attitude every single day without getting a proper return on my investment."
The relief on Hector’s face was almost pathetic. Nash watched the numbers flash as Hector’s system processed the statement.
[TRIGGER EVENTS CONTEXT: COMPENSATING STRATAGEM COMPLETE]
→ Nash confirms Victoria remains defiled by zero men.
→ Trust %: 5% → 22% (+17%)
→ Affection %: 5% → 9% (+4%)
His emerald eyes softened, the icy tension vanishing from his shoulders as his sick, defensive ego relaxed. He let out a soft, relaxed chuckle, completely lowering his mental defense grid.
"Ah, yes... she has always been remarkably difficult to manage, Nash. A total lack of perspective. She doesn’t know how to treat high-value assets."
Nash’s smirk widened, weren’t this guy supposed not knowing her?
"Exactly," Nash said, his eyes narrowing as he launched the counter-strike to secure his quest objective. "And that’s why your baseline terms don’t work for me. If I’m going to leave her squad and sign with Apex, I need an immediate, tangible compensation to settle that frustration. A physical deposit before I ever put my signature on your files."
Hector tilted his head, his pleasant smile returning, totally intrigued.
"And what exactly do you consider a proper deposit, my friend?"
Nash didn’t look at Hector. He turned his heavy, predatory gaze slowly toward the woman sitting next to him.
"Put Monique in the contract. I want her at my disposal, completely, at my absolute discretion, whenever and wherever I want. That’s my mandatory clause."
A heavy, absolute silence slammed down over the table.
Monique’s jaw dropped, her face turning pale as her high corporate status was suddenly reduced to a basic trading asset. She looked at Hector, her eyes screaming for him to assert the firm’s pride and crush this insolent rat.
Hector, however, merely blinked. He looked at Monique, then back at Nash, a soft, amused chuckle escaping his lips. To an elite sadist like him, a director was just an expensive, interchangeable piece of machinery.
He loved the pure, ruthless nature of Nash’s demand, it matched his own dark ideology perfectly.
"Nash, please... this is the Spires, not the slums," Hector said with a light, theatrical wave of his hand, pretending to play the sophisticated ruler. "Madame de la Bite is a high-ranking director of this firm. We don’t typically include our executive staff as... baseline currency."
"This is the Underground, Perez," Nash shot back coldly, his voice sharp and unyielding. "Out here, raw force dictates the line. If Apex doesn’t have the stomach to pay my price, then I might as well stay down there and keep trying my luck with Victoria."
Hector’s eyes flared with amusement. The desire to completely strip Victoria of her weapon, combined with his own twisted curiosity to see how far Nash’s dominance could push his staff, took over completely. He turned his cold, relaxed face toward Monique, his voice entirely devoid of emotion.
"Do it, Monique."
Monique’s whole world collapsed in a split second. Her eyes filled with a sudden, burning mix of pure rage, deep terror, and absolute public humiliation. To be ordered around like a common whore in the middle of a luxury establishment by her own CEO was a catastrophic blow to her high-tier pride.
Even Victoria hadn’t been reduced to this.
Yet, beneath the layers of absolute anger, her hidden, deeply repressed masochistic preferences, her secret urge to be completely dominated and ordered around by a true alpha, went into an absolute state of chaos.
Her legs shook violently under her gold gown as she slowly pushed herself out of her chair.
She walked around the table with short, tense steps, her breathing completely ragged. She stopped right beside Nash’s seat, her fingers trembling as she slowly, painfully lowered herself, putting one knee completely on the hard, polished white granite floor.
She leaned forward toward his lap, her eyes glassy with tears of sheer humiliation and forced submission, ready to perform a fellation right there in the open room.
Just as her full, glossed lips drew within an inch of his clothes, Nash reached down. His large, calloused hand clamped firmly over her shoulder, stopping her movement dead in its tracks.
He didn’t pull her up like a gentleman. He just held her pinned there on her knee, looking down at her with a mocking smirk that showed he didn’t care about her submission at all. He repressed her advance, completely breaking her expectations.
Nash turned his face toward Hector, a massive grin pulling at his lips.
"You are truly without any pity, Perez. But I must absolutely congratulate you on the mindset. I really like your style."
Hector was slightly taken aback, his emerald eyes widening by a fraction.
"It was merely a validation of your ambition, Nash," Hector replied smoothly, recovering his calm posture.
"Of course," Nash smiled, as he slowly released Monique’s shoulder, letting her stay on the floor for a heavy second before she stood up. "I’m entirely open to continuing this little... transaction later, but I absolutely detest having an audience for this."
He turned his eyes back down to Monique, who was trembling with pure rage as she remained on the floor.
"Don’t let me catch you alone, Monique," Nash whispered.
[SYSTEM UPDATE: MONIQUE DE LA BITE INTERACTION VALUE]
→ Direct high-pressure verbal deconstruction under public context.
→ Affection %: 25% → 32% (+7%)
→ Lust %: 40% → 76% (+36% CRITICAL SPIKE ▲)
→ Trust %: 25% → 31% (+6%)
Monique snapped back onto her feet, her fingers shaking uncontrollably as she adjusted the rumpled lines of her gold dress.
Her face was burning an intense, bright crimson with a lethal mix of rage and absolute embarrassment.
She threw Nash a mortal, venomous look that could kill, but the moment her eyes crossed Hector’s calm, freezing green gaze, her anger died.
She knew her place.
She quickly forced her head down, completely ignoring the situation to save whatever shred of face she had left.
Yet, as she sat back in her chair, her deep pride was warring with an immense, suffocating frustration. Nash had made her put a knee to the floor, humiliated her completely, and then rejected her at the absolute last millisecond, leaving her sexual obsession completely unfulfilled.
That calculated rejection rewired her brain, her anger mixing with an absolute, heavy wetness that completely soaked through her undergarments.
She was deeply proud, but this combination of public shame and sudden denial left a massive, uncomfortable ache in her lower body. She was hooked, and she didn’t even know how to process the damage.
Nash completely ignored her recovery, turning his full, absolute focus right back onto Hector. He needed to centralize the Upperworld baron’s attention entirely on his own value, cutting away any secondary distractions.
"Let’s drop the act about Baby-Boom, Perez," Nash said, his voice dropping into a deep, completely dismissive tone as he gestured toward the contract on the table. "You think throwing a few pop idols into a contract is going to sway my alignment? I enjoyed doing them, sure. They’re fun. But I can have them whenever and wherever I want. They aren’t a prize. What I want is a real challenge."
Monique’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with complete surprise at his blunt rejection of the multi-million credit offer.
Hector, however, remained perfectly calm. He leaned back in his fancy chair, his finger rhythmically tapping the dark wood as he analyzed the player.
"An ambitious stance, Nash. But Apex offers absolute security. If you refuse, you stay down in the mud."
"Think about it from my side," Nash smiled, his eyes suddenly glittering with a dangerous, sharp light as he leaned heavily forward across the table. "If I’m going to leave Blacklist because I carry the entire roster on my back... why the hell would I sign with Apex just to go to Baby-Boom and do the exact same thing? I don’t carry dead weight, Perez. I only want the very best. And I want a hell of a lot more than a stupid, standard contract for a Breakball player."
Hector didn’t miss the hidden meaning. Nash wasn’t refusing because he was loyal to Victoria; he was refusing because he was too greedy, too hungry, and wanted to strip Apex of much more than what they were offering.
He was forcing Hector to realize that this wasn’t a standard street rat to be bought with a fixed fee, this was a monster trying to negotiate for real estate at the very top of the board.
Hector’s emerald eyes narrowed to tight, calculating slits. He caught the greed, the raw ambition dripping from Nash’s posture. He realized right then that he didn’t fully understand the depth of this boy’s mind yet.
Nash was willing to deal, but his price was intentionally set too high to be settled over a single dinner. Hector needed to back away, pull his analytics together, and evaluate exactly what kind of beast he was dealing with before moving any further on the board.
Hector slowly pulled the digital data-block back toward his side of the table, his calm, pleasant smile returning to his face as he broke the pressure.
"A very interesting counter, my friend," Hector murmured. "It seems I underestimated the scope of your appetite. If that is the case, we will withdraw the offer for tonight. I prefer to know exactly what I am buying before I clear the account."
Hector stood up without any rush, slipping his hands into his pockets. He leaned back slightly, his green eyes cutting into Nash with an entirely new look.
That polite, plastic smile he wore earlier was gone, replaced by the face of a collector who just realized the item on the table isn’t a cheap knockoff, but an actual high-grade blade.
"You know, Nash... you’re turning out to be pretty fascinating," Hector said, his voice keeping that light, theatrical rhythm. "When I first sat down, I thought I was dealing with a standard underground talent. A boy from the slums who just wanted a huge pile of credits to get away from the grease. But looking at you now? What you’re after isn’t just money. I mean, yeah, it’s about the cash, obviously, but the kind of wealth and absolute leverage that only exists Up there. You aren’t looking for a bigger cage, my friend. You’re looking to cross the line and take a piece of the kingdom for yourself, and that’s a completely different matter."
Monique’s head snapped straight up, her eyes wide as she stared back and forth between her CEO and the player. Her brain was in an absolute state of chaos.
Wait... what? she thought, her fingers desperately twisting the gold fabric of her dress. I thought he was infatuated with Aiko? All of this was just a game to get himself to the very top of the board? His only real target was Apex Records from the start?
The sudden realization that this slum-born rookie was playing a game deep enough to make Hector pull back his hand hit her right in the chest, leaving a heavy mix of pure surprise and a twisted, messy admiration.
Not like she admired him, but the balls this guy had...
Nash watched the blonde prince without a single blink. Slowly, a dark grin spread across his face, completely stepping into the exact character Hector had just built for him.
"Something like that, Perez," Nash said, his voice deep and slow. "A standard contract is just paper. If we’re going to talk about real weight, we might as well save it for a more... private ground. Somewhere we don’t have to worry about any third party."
"An exceptional proposition," Hector chuckled softly, his green eyes flashing. He was genuinely loving the raw greed dripping from the man across from him. "I completely agree. Dealing with someone who actually understands his own value is a rare luxury these days. We will hold the paperwork for tonight. I prefer our next conversation to happen when the stakes are properly aligned."
Nash gave a calm nod, but internally, a massive wave of absolute escaped his chest.
I won, Nash thought, his fingers finally relaxing underneath the table. The tactical bluff had completely landed. If Hector had pushed the contract tonight, Nash would have been forced to either accept a corporate leash or trigger an all-out war before Blacklist was anywhere near ready to handle the blowback.
By playing the hyper-greedy predator, he had forced the master of Apex to pull back his own hand just to re-evaluate the board.
But there was more, way, way fucking more.
He had planted the best seed for the future. Now, in Hector and Monique’s eyes, Nash’s only interest was the power of Apex Records, and he absolutely rejected Baby-Boom.
Meaning? Well, now the manipulation term was more like: choosing between Nash and the girls, simple as that.
It wasn’t done yet, but he had an opening now.
[SPECIAL QUEST: THE SERPENT’S DELAY — COMPLETED]
→ Primary Objective Met: Contract signing halted via absolute verbal dominance.
→ Bonus Objective Met: Submission event fully executed on Monique de la Bite.
→ Rewards Processed: +10 SP / +5 PP / Unlocked Passive: [Sovereign’s Ledger]
Effect: Nash can now instantly spot and exploit any psychological defense gaps, lies, or hidden insecurities during face-to-face talk. This trait gives his words an automatic mental weight that slowly drains his opponent’s focus and confidence.
→ Temporary Perk Active: [Corporate Subjugation] (Monique’s resistance threshold lowered by 25%).
Nash almost chuckled, what a masterpiece je did tonight. Victoria wouldn’t believe it.
A grin cut across Nash’s face for a split fraction of a second before vanishing back into his cold mask of ice.
Hector smoothly pulled his chair back out, his signature, relaxed smile firmly back in place as he gestured toward the expensive dishes resting between them.
"But let us not ruin a perfectly immaculate meal with administrative details," Hector said warmly, his tone returning to that of a perfect, hospitable host. "Please, Nash, let us pursue the dinner. The Pavilion’s surface cut is an absolute specialty, and it would be a tragedy to let it cool while we discuss the future."
Nash picked up his glass, his eyes narrowing slightly as he locked his gaze onto Hector across the wood.
[HECTOR PEREZ]
Affection %: 9% (Slightly Intrigued ▲)
Lust %: 10% (Suppressed Obsession)
Trust %: 22% (Calculated Baseline ▲)
