"Hey Camilla, how can I take the best shot of you?" The photographer's question snapped Camilla out of her thoughts, and she looked at him.

Paul was a photographer for the "Iteselle" corporation's magazines. In the Russian Empire, their glossy magazine was known as "Spark."

"I'll just wave my dress like this," Camilla said, making an airy gesture.

"Got it," Paul nodded. "On the count of three..."

He counted down with his fingers, and on the second finger, Camilla made a circular motion with her dress. Her frown gave her youthful face a hint of strictness, which was precisely what advertisers loved about her.

"Done," Paul waved, and Camilla moved on.

Today, the "Happiness" corporation was holding a reception to improve its shaky reputation. As Camilla moved aside, a plump blonde with a long pink strand flirtatiously tucked behind her ear took her place. They snapped a couple of photos with airy kisses, and the blonde rushed towards Camilla.

"Long time no see, Olga Nikolaevna," Camilla sighed, but she was mentally prepared to communicate with many people at the evening event.

"What do you mean, Nikolaevna!" Olga chuckled. "When you make your signature eyes, you start to look like a name with a patronymic. And I... Oh!" the girl waved her hand. "By the way, we haven't seen you in a while. Where do you disappear to?"

"I'm earning an inheritance," Camilla recalled the rumors that had started about her and decided to tell the truth to the chief gossip. "You know my father..."

"You mean his speeches about how we are distant from the people? What if we don't fix this, they'll all hang us like the French once did?"

"Not hang, but shoot," Camilla corrected. "As he says, now is the time for simple, not elegant solutions."

"And what, they're preparing you to fight for your life? I heard they sent you to a shard, and you spent two months surrounded by two thousand men!" Olga's eyes sparkled.

"Nothing like that," Camilla said, disappointing her. "They just sent me to study the life of the people. I'll work as a regular laborer for a year to find out the true value of everything..."

Olga reached out and stroked her old friend's head, feeling the softness of her hair. The pity she had initially felt quickly evaporated. How could she feel sorry for someone so gifted with such a magnificent talent?

"How about you?" Camilla exhaled, attempting to change the subject.

"Oh, you have no idea!" Olga dramatically exclaimed, placing her hand over her mouth. "You missed all the excitement. They attacked me during the 'Happiness' club massacre! A real thug! But I hit him in the balls, just like we were taught in self-defense class, and then ran away all by myself! They say even the heir was interested in me, a brave and beautiful resident of the empire."

With each word, Olga waved her arms more and more.

"And I heard that the Night Avengers were involved in the fight. Did you see them?" Camilla looked at her old friend in a new light.

"I definitely saw someone there. I drew a portrait for the police. You know I've always been good at drawing," Olga was pleased with her friend's interest. "But nothing special. Just some ugly faces. And when I turned around, they threw a grenade at me. Can you imagine? It was like being in a real war! I even felt the spark of water inside me almost wake up, if you know what I mean..."

Camilla nodded, not quite understanding, but willing to listen.

"I just remembered something strange about those strangers," Olga unexpectedly furrowed her brows. "I don't know anything about military gear, but their capes... That was definitely the latest collection from Italy. They say it sold out in half a day."

"Expensive but ordinary civilian capes..." Camilla pondered. "So the Night Avengers must be quite wealthy if they can afford to risk wearing such clothing."

"Do you think they're one of us?" Olga covered her mouth to avoid saying anything unnecessary before turning around and running to share her new guess with everyone gathered. It seemed like her adventures had found a second wind today.

Camilla quickly left the hall and slipped out into the garden, hoping that she wouldn't be noticed for a while. In the distance, she spotted her agent's bald head, rushing to secure new contracts and receive advances.

Normally, Camilla loved acting, but lately, her mind was preoccupied with stories about the Night Avengers. These were ordinary people who refused to leave the safety of the city in the hands of the wealthy and powerful, and took matters into their own hands. They had been successful in closing down drug-selling clubs, forcing corporations to retreat, and bringing peace to an area of Moscow previously known for its lively nightlife. Camilla found it incredible, yet unfair that she was to follow a completely different path when she completes her father's assignment in a year.

She had two choices, either work for the corporation or use her special ability and try out for the Moscow "Defense" junior team. Previously, Camilla had been sure that the latter was the better option, but now she wasn't so sure.

Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. "Wow, look at you, selling pastries and getting invited to fancy city parties," teased Lex, a cheeky upstart who had inherited a fortune. Camilla recognized him and decided to put up with him for as long as he was helping ordinary people earn a living. But if he crossed the line, she would not hesitate to call on her father to take care of him.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The girl retorted to the boy, "I didn't expect small merchants like you to be let in here. Maybe you should look higher up my chest to realize your mistake."

Camilla nodded towards Tverskaya, which was visible in the distance. She was being displayed on one of the main screens of the capital in a social advertisement for the city. Even though she didn't earn any money from it, she was truly proud of it. Camilla couldn't help but imagine how the impudent boy would feel when he realized his mistake after seeing her on the screen. Especially since she had skillfully mocked him about his height, it made the situation even more satisfying.

Lex didn't seem upset at all when he recognized her on the screen and said, "Wow! You seem to be a celebrity, and honestly..."

Camilla thought he was going to apologize, but instead, Lex said, "To be honest, it's a real crime to wear all those oversized work clothes with your figure. I'm sure if you dress properly, ten times more people will come to our mall!"

Camilla was furious and asked, "What are you talking about?!"

Lex didn't pay any attention to her anger and said, "Anyway, if you lose tomorrow, we'll compensate you with interest. A naked star and free cakes – it will be the promotion of the year!"

Camilla insisted, "My cakes are not free!"

Lex brushed it off and said, "It's fine, I'll pay for them myself. And I'm glad you have no objections about everything else."

He turned around and whistled as he headed back towards the main hall. Camilla followed him with an angry look and looked for a suitable tool for revenge. Her gaze settled on a familiar figure – Young Orlov, who wasn't the nicest person but was exactly who she needed today!

***

Arya and I watched as Fat Sam demonstrated everything he had learned for about ten minutes. Valera had trained him well, giving him confidence and drilling some basic moves to automation. But it wasn't enough to beat the girl with the pastries.

"He doesn't stand a chance," Arya showed me a note. "He'll get destroyed like poop at the gas station!"

"Where did you learn those phrases?" I asked, taking the note from her. No one should see what this innocent-looking blonde was writing.

"My workout partner is bad at everything except for one thing: he occasionally swears in a very amusing way," Arya wrote.

I briefly considered watching their training, but then a more pressing problem caught my attention. For some reason, I didn't want to lose.

"So, here's the thing," I said. "We have a physical model with potential upgrades to the robo-suit in the simulator. Would it be unethical to use it?"

"Not at all," Fat Sam shook his head. "I reviewed the first video, and the girl upgraded her suit herself. She added separate reactors for each leg and a new paint job! I tried to copy it, but it's very difficult to control the suit when each part is operating independently. I can't keep it going for more than a couple of seconds!"

"And that's all you've tried?" I asked.

"Well, I also tested extra weapons - rockets, mines, and an extra shield. But every time, the simulator tells me that the reactor power of a regular suit is insufficient for something serious. Otherwise, I would have attached a nuclear bomb to myself! At least it would have been a tie!"

"And that's all you can think of?" I made an expressive clicking sound with my tongue. "No ambition at all!"

Arya and Sam gave me a skeptical look when I told them about my idea. They seemed to think that nothing could be more groundbreaking than a nuclear bomb. I knew they were wrong, so I gave them a quick rundown of my plan. After that, I made some adjustments to Sam's mech myself, and it easily accepted all the changes.

"We still have to practice, and then we need to swing by the reception," I said to them as we wrapped up. I bid farewell to Sam, and Arya and I made our way to the "Happiness" corporation's Christmas ball. They always tried to put together something unique for the occasion, and this year's theme was the Garden of Eden. The waiters and waitresses were dressed in only three fig leaves. I was told that if I offered any of them an apple, their clothing would vanish, and they would become my personal attendant for the evening.

"Actually, that's not accurate," I said to Arya. "Adam and Eve were nude before they ate the apple. After they sinned, they became ashamed and covered themselves."

"You're such a stick-in-the-mud," Arya replied. "You should be thinking about how we can pull off your plan. If we gave everyone an apple, how would we get them undressed?"

"You don't need to undress them," I countered.

"Oh, I forgot you're still afraid of women's bodies," the orc teased, bringing up our past adventures. "When will you grow up?"

"People grow up when they start thinking about more than just their instincts," I said. "And who knows, maybe I won't be running away tonight."

I left Arya at the snack table and strolled around the garden. According to the program, they had gathered every plant from all over the world, creating a botanical wonderland. The locals seemed unimpressed, preferring to gossip and socialize. I had come with the intention of networking and finding potential investors for "Horizon," but five minutes of enjoying the beauty wouldn't make much of a difference, would it?

I stepped outside into the garden, taking in the delightful aroma of the various flowers. The way they were arranged created a unique scent at every step, without any confusion or mess like you might find at a cheap flower stall. As I strolled, my attention was caught by a familiar figure - the girl with the pastries. But instead of her usual confidence, she seemed sad. Despite wanting to approach her and offer a comforting embrace, I held back due to the sarcasm still lingering from my conversation with Arya. We ended up trading barbs instead, and I ultimately decided to head back inside, the previous feeling of purity and beauty dissipating.

Looking around, I scoured the crowd for potential targets for business or to prove Arya wrong. Among the guests were the governor, Moscow aristocrats, a handful of capital officials, and the entire board of directors of "Happiness". It was then that my gaze landed on an Asian woman in a long red dress, who seemed to be staring intently at me. Her hair was tied up neatly in squares, and for some inexplicable reason, I was tempted to nickname her Turtle.

Without hesitation, I waved at her, and she returned the gesture. Ha! Let Arya stew - I knew how to charm women. As I started towards Turtle, however, I was suddenly jostled from the side by a young man with a vaguely familiar face.

"Viscount Orlov," he announced himself, bowing sharply.

"Mouse. Lex Mouse," I responded, sensing that trouble was brewing.

"Commoner," Orlov sneered, drawing out the word like an insult. "It's no surprise you weren't paying attention and bumped into me. You owe me an apology."

I paused for a moment, considering my options. Orlov's father worked for "Happiness", a company that I had taken down multiple stores and clubs for. Despite this, I had still received an invitation to this event, which I thought was an offer of peace. But now, it was clear they had another agenda. Well, Viscount Orlov - I studied the boy standing before me - you'll regret signing up for this dirty job.

"Fine, a duel it is," I declared, removing my glove and crushing it into a ball before punching Orlov in the face, leaving a red mark on his cheek. "We fight until the first drop of blood!"

***

Camilla watched as Orlov immediately agreed to her proposal to teach the impudent upstart a lesson. They executed their plan perfectly, choosing the moment when no one was looking, colliding, and blaming someone else. In situations like this, an ordinary person would lose their composure and try to explain themselves, but this would only lead to more mistakes. When Lex hinted that Orlov was lying, he could have chosen the rules of the duel, but to Camilla's surprise, the young upstart remained calm.

In the courtyard, a platform had been cleared for the duelists, and they stood facing each other. Camilla realized she regretted the messy porridge, but it was too late to do anything about it. She approached closer to not miss anything.

Lex chose the terms, and Orlov chose the weapon - two swords. Camilla knew this was not good. Sword wounds may seem rougher and more dangerous, but they could always be healed. However, the French blade could kill a person so quickly and thoroughly that even the wonderful serum from the shard would not be able to help. Camilla clenched her fists, feeling guilty for causing this situation.

Suddenly, something creaked next to Camilla. It was Lex's sister, a wonderful blonde angel locked in a helpless body on a wheelchair. Camilla realized that perhaps because of her, she would lose the last member of the family today. Camilla finally made up her mind and tried to go ahead, but the wheelchair accelerated and blocked her way.

"Don't interfere with my brother," the doll-like girl handed her a note. Then another one. "I knew it was you."

Camilla tried to throw out of her head how easily she was exposed and asked, "Are you so sure about that? Orlov, although a scoundrel, is a strong warrior. He was trained from childhood, and your Lex... What can an ordinary merchant do? What is his strength?"

"My brother says his strength is in money," the girl wrote in a new note. "And a little bit in brains, but I'm not entirely sure about the latter."

"Are you kidding me?" Camilla was perplexed.

"Look," Arya replied.

Meanwhile, Lex finished examining his sword meticulously, waving it a few times - very, very clumsily - and then decisively took a step forward.