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Chapter One-Hundred-And-Sixty-Four: Rod: Fallout , Part 3

Chapter One-Hundred-And-Sixty-Four: Rod: Fallout , Part 3

I joined Blake as the tower of books grew comically larger, looming over us like an absurd monument to our recent escapade. The stack stretched higher and higher, as if it might touch the ceiling at any moment. I couldn't help but smirk as William, wide-eyed, leaned too far back in his chair and tumbled over. The sight of his arms flailing sent both Blake and me into fits of laughter, my sides aching from the unexpected hilarity of it all.

Blake rushed forward, her tone halfway between amusement and concern. "Are you okay?"

William, red-faced and flustered, scrambled to his feet. "Why, yes, of course," he muttered, dusting himself off with as much dignity as he could muster. His throat cleared awkwardly as he avoided eye contact. "But where did you get all these books?"

Blake didn’t miss a beat. "We stole them."

My breath caught in my throat at the bluntness of her words. Blake, what the hell?!

"Well, yes, obviously," William stammered, his expression now bordering on baffled. "But from where?"

"The Protector," Blake said, her voice light, almost casual, like she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell in the room.

William gasped so loudly that I nearly flinched, and in an exaggerated, theatrical motion, he collapsed again, clutching his chest like we’d just handed him a death sentence. I bit down on a laugh, my amusement tempered by the genuinely horrified look on his face. For a split second, I almost worried we might’ve given him a heart attack, but when I saw him peek up from under his arm, clearly unharmed, I relaxed. Dramatic much?

"Blake, you’ve got to stop doing this to me," William huffed, finally standing up, though his legs still seemed wobbly. "I’m too old for these shocks."

Blake tilted her head, feigning innocence with an infuriatingly sweet smile. "We’re not doing anything to you," she said, her voice soft but clearly teasing. "We’re just trying to help this place reach its potential."

I watched the two of them banter, and every fiber of me itched to jump in, to throw in my own two cents, to stop this train wreck before it happened. Amusement flickered at the edges of my mind, but beneath it, a gnawing unease twisted in my gut. This was going to end badly—I could feel it, like a storm brewing on the horizon. Still, I stayed silent, clenching my fists and forcing myself to hold back. I wasn’t sure if it was stubbornness or hope that kept me quiet.

William straightened, his eyes darting nervously between Blake and the towering stack of books. His voice was tight, trembling slightly as if bracing for a blow. "How many books are there?"

Blake shrugged, her casual response doing nothing to ease the tension in the room. "I don’t have an exact count, but... probably over 500."

William paled, his face going ghostly white as if someone had yanked the floor from beneath him. For a heartbeat, I thought he might faint—again—but then I saw it: a flicker of something darker. The panic drained from his eyes, replaced by a gleam of pure, unsettling excitement. My stomach twisted, dread creeping in. What the hell was he scheming now? He rubbed his hands together like a man who had just stumbled upon a goldmine. This can’t be good.

"This is quite the boon," he said, his tone far too cheerful for my liking. "But... I’m afraid I can’t offer you the reward you might expect." His smile widened, and my chest tightened. I could see it coming—his smarmy grin said it all. "In fact, the best I can do is... half price."

Half price? My mind stuttered over the words, and for a second, I just stood there, blinking in disbelief. Half price for 500 books? He might as well have slapped me. Fury rushed up, fast and hot, tightening around my chest like a vice. My jaw clenched, my hands curling into fists at my sides. This has to be some kind of joke. I shot a look at Blake, expecting her to be as outraged as I was, but to my surprise, she stayed calm—too calm, like she’d been expecting this all along.

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That was it. I’d had enough of being played.

I stepped forward, my finger jabbing into William’s chest, stopping him mid-step. "Listen here," I growled, my voice low but dangerously steady. "We brought you 500 books. That’s enough for both of us to walk out of here and never look back. You don’t get to change the rules just because we did the impossible."

William’s eyes widened, his confidence faltering. "Now, hold on a minute, I–"

"No," I cut him off, my voice hardening. "That’s the deal. Full price, or we’re gone." Without waiting for a reply, I spun around, shoving books into my inventory with more force than necessary. Blake hesitated, her eyes flicking between me and William, her expression unreadable. But after a beat, she joined me, tossing books in with a resigned sigh. Behind us, William spluttered, his protests spilling out in panicked bursts.

"You can’t do this!" His voice cracked, desperation creeping in. "You have no right!"

I didn’t even bother turning around. "No, you have no right," I shot back, my voice ice cold. "I’m done with people like you—and gods—heaping abuse on me just because I’m not as powerful. We get books for free whenever we want, or we walk. Even at full price, we’re losing."

William’s face blanched even further, and I could hear the strain in his voice as he tried to keep control. "I... I can’t do that. We don’t have enough in the coffers."

"You heard the man, Blake. Let’s go."

As we marched toward the door, the sound of William’s feeble protests trailing behind us, a surge of triumph rushed through me. For once, I wasn’t the one getting walked over. I felt the corners of my lips twitch in a small, victorious smile, but the satisfaction was short-lived.

A sharp, stinging slap exploded across my cheek, snapping my head to the side. The force of it left me momentarily stunned, the world tilting as I blinked through the sting. My hand flew to my cheek, the heat of the slap radiating through my skin. "What the hell was that for?" I growled, rubbing my cheek, confusion quickly twisting into anger.

Blake stood there, fire blazing in her eyes, her chest rising and falling with barely contained fury. "For pulling that stupid stunt without even consulting me!" she snapped, her voice crackling with anger. "Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? We’re going to be persona non grata here by the end of the week!"

I ground my teeth, the frustration bubbling over. "I know what I’m doing. He may have all the power here, but he’s not a Penitent. He’s bound to Penance, just like we are. He can’t change the rules on us."

Blake stepped closer, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "He may not be a Penitent, but he can still make life a living hell for us." Her words were cold, biting, and they cut through my anger like a knife.

My fists clenched tightly. "And you think letting him scam us out of those books is better? We risked everything!" My voice rose, the anger swelling inside me. "I trusted you in the Forbidden Library, Blake. Why can’t you trust me here?"

She stared at me for a long moment, her chest heaving with frustration. For a second, I thought she might actually hit me again. But then she let out a long, exasperated sigh. "It’s not about trust," she said, her voice sharp and clipped. "It’s about strategy. You may have gotten us a short-term win, but now? We’ve just made a powerful enemy."

I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, my pulse hammering in my ears. "Then we turn it into an opportunity," I said, my voice tight but determined. "If they can’t meet our demands, we force them to owe us. I used to do this all the time on the streets, Blake. I know how to play these games."

Blake’s gaze flickered, her eyes searching mine. For a moment, I thought she was going to concede. But then she shoved me hard in the chest, her voice rising in frustration. "Don’t you dare compare this to your street tricks. This isn’t some petty hustle. These are people in power who can crush us."

We stood there, our breaths coming in ragged bursts, the tension between us crackling in the air. My cheek still throbbed, but the sting of her slap was nothing compared to the frustration boiling between us.

Before either of us could say anything, the air shimmered. The familiar hum of a memory core filled the space, and I instinctively reached for it, my fingers curling around the glowing orb as it descended from the ceiling. The sudden calm it brought felt like a splash of cold water, instantly cooling the heat of our argument.

Blake’s eyes softened, her anger dissipating as she watched the core with me. Whatever fight we had in us drained away, replaced by the quiet, unsettling reality that the game wasn’t over yet.