Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit

Chapter 107 - The Million-Dollar Heist

Chapter 107 - The Million-Dollar Heist

"Welcome to our humble abode, Mister Zaft Callahan. And welcome back to you too, Mister Neil Orbeus," Ismail greeted, his arms spread wide like a showman on stage, his voice dripping with artificial warmth.

With a casual wave of his hand, the women lounging on the leather sofas wordlessly dispersed, gliding away like obedient shadows. All but two. These two remained planted firmly behind Ismail, flanking him like statues. They were different—sharper, tenser. Even in their revealing shorts and cropped jackets, there was a weight to their presence. The faint outline of holstered sidearms peeked from their hips, betraying their purpose. Worse still, each of them clutched a morpher. WAIFUs.

"I believe Fei Xian has already briefed you on our cause," Ismail continued, his tone becoming more businesslike. "And given that you've arrived with Neil, I take it he's already spilled the beans."

"More or less," I replied, forcing a smirk that didn't quite reach my eyes.

"Then let us proceed with proper introductions," Ismail said, straightening his back with pride. "Welcome to the Xyraxis Headquarters of the Neo Terrestrial Reich. I am Ismail Arondight, commander of the NTR's operations here in Xyraxis Metropolis. Despite what you've read—or been told—we are not terrorists. I prefer the term revolutionaries."

"That's basically the same thing," I muttered, just loud enough for Neil to hear.

Ismail ignored the remark—or pretended to. "Terrorism is not our purpose," he said, lifting his cybernetic fist, its servos humming faintly as it clenched, "but it is our means. We intend to seize control of this planet, to dismantle the Kaiserin's regime, and ultimately to sever all ties with the Earth. With your mysterious power, Zaft, we will succeed."

"Why do you want this revolution so much?" I asked, my tone even, but my eyes locked onto his.

"For vengeance... and for justice," Ismail Arondight replied, his voice darkening. His brow furrowed like storm clouds gathering, and his crimson cybernetic eyes narrowed into a cold, mechanical glare that bored straight into me. "You already know about the inhumane experiments conducted by the United Nations. The HUSBANDOs."

My gaze flicked toward Neil. He stood stiffly at my side, his shoulders taut, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened. A subtle tremor betrayed the weight of memory pressing down on him. Then I turned back to Ismail, steadying my voice.

"I've got no quarrel with Earth's people," I said coolly. "So let's skip the propaganda and talk terms. My recruitment terms."

"Oh?" Ismail's lips curled into a sharp smile, the kind a man wears when he's both curious and amused. "And what exactly do you seek?"

"First." I raised a single finger. "I want an acceptance fee for the use of my powers. One million dollars. Upfront. Consider it as a capital investment."

Ismail's smile twitched, and his brows tightened. "That's quite steep."

"You'd actually be saving money," I shot back with a grin that didn't try to hide its edge. "A single Minuteman ICBM costs around seven million dollars. Hire me, and I'll give you something better. I can spawn a sword that splits atoms every time a WAIFU swings it."

"Hmmm..." Ismail scratched his chin, his cybernetic fingers making a faint click against his stubbled jaw. "Maybe we can go with that."

Then, with a sharp snap of his fingers, one of his WAIFUs moved with robotic precision. From the shadows behind him, she stepped forward and placed a sleek, metallic briefcase on the low glass table between us. With a practiced motion, she unclasped the case and flipped it open, revealing neatly stacked bundles of hundred-dollar bills. My mouth went dry. It was a small mountain of cash—clean, crisp, and undeniably real.