Stillwell's smile remained fixed.
If the pause after Steve's words had been a second shorter, he might have believed she truly had no idea what he meant. The silence lasted just long enough to prove otherwise.
"There are rumors," he said, "that it can bring all your heroes down to earth. Turn them back into ordinary people. End the entire market."
His tone remained even, devoid of mockery or triumph. As a seasoned politician, Steve understood how to navigate these rooms. Irritating Vought served no purpose. Irritating Madelyn Stillwell specifically was a waste of time.
"I fully intend to ensure this conversation remains a rumor and nothing more. I want to maintain a good relationship with you and Vought, Madelyn. I mean that."
He paused, letting the statement sink in.
"But a relationship goes both ways."
Stillwell picked up her wine glass and took a sip, using the silence to control the room.
"Three hundred million," she said. "For Nubian Prince. Or we move the negotiations to Atlanta."
Steve stood up, buttoned his jacket, and maintained a polite, unreadable expression.
"It looks like we won't be coming to an agreement tonight."
Jude's phone lit up on the counter, buzzing with his ringtone.
He didn't rush to pick it up, continuing to eat from his bowl. Across the small table, Yomogi was doing the same, hunched over her food with absolute focus.
Clark's name flashed on the screen.
"Hmm." Jude frowned slightly. "We already spoke today."
He swiped to answer.
"It's me," Clark said on the other end. "Where are you right now?"
"At my apartment. What happened?"
"I want to meet up."
Jude looked up at the ceiling. "Is there something you can't say over the phone?"
"I just wanted to see a friend. Nothing urgent."
The wording meant something else entirely. It was a nod to their communication protocols. Their secure channel was one-way, limited to three specific signals. Whatever Clark had discovered, it was too complex for those codes.
Which meant it was likely a major piece of information about Vought.
His access is moving faster than mine or Butcher's, Jude thought. That combination of x-ray vision and superhearing is incredibly thorough.
"I know a bar," Jude said. "I'll send you the address."
After hanging up, Jude finished the rest of his Palico food quickly. Yomogi was already halfway through hers.
[Palico Food consumed. Attack Power +15%.]
[Maximum HP: +50 points. Maximum Stamina: +50 points. (Original base values: 100 each.)]
[Passive Skill unlocked — Palico's Last Stand: activates when HP falls below 10. Base attack power ×1.35. This multiplier stacks with other combat enhancements rather than replacing them. (Practical use cases: extremely limited.)]
Jude let out a breath.
HP and stamina were up by fifty points each, and his attack power had increased by fifteen percent. Yomogi's cooking had finally reached the threshold for high-grade Palico food, hitting the absolute limit of what cat-food preparation could achieve.
As for the Last Stand passive, the numbers were grim. Dropping to ten HP meant being a single scratch away from death. The skill was meant for a specific type of fighter—someone reckless enough to push themselves to the absolute brink for one final, all-out strike. In everyday situations, it was useless.
"Not bad," Jude said, looking over at Yomogi. "After all this practice, you've actually improved. But why is my maximum HP and stamina still stuck at the base 100? I completed Intermediate Physical Enhancement. The numbers should be higher."
[Correction: prior to Intermediate Physical Enhancement, your base stats were significantly below 100.]
[For reference: a Hunter World character at baseline 100 HP can survive a forty-meter drop and walk away uninjured. Sustained lava immersion is manageable. Extended exposure to toxic miasma and poisonous gas causes no lasting harm. Standard equipment loads weigh several hundred kilograms, carried at full combat speed. A single meal equivalent to a full day's caloric intake is routine.]
[Some creatures merely resemble human beings.]
Jude stayed quiet for a moment, then reached over and patted Yomogi on the head.
"Fine. Starting today, stop cooking three meals a day. Just make Palico food once every three days to keep the habit active."
Yomogi looked up from her bowl. "Long live the compound! Meow!"
"Clean the pots when you're done."
"Boss, you're the laziest—"
"And tonight, we go to the training ground. Jagras and Rajang. You still need practice on all three auxiliary gadgets to get your proficiency where it needs to be."
Yomogi's face fell instantly. She grabbed Jude's trouser leg with both paws, clinging to him. "You monster."
Jude reached down, unclasped her paws, and set her back through the doorway.
"Stop dragging your feet. If you can't handle the Rajang, I can switch it out for the Mosswine."
Yomogi froze.
"Boss," she said, her voice dropping to a cautious, negotiating tone. "The Mosswine. The herbivore. The one with mushrooms on its back that just nudges people?"
"That's the one."
"I WANT THE MOSSWINE."
Jude looked at her, watching her celebrate a massive tactical error as if she had won a prize.
"You do realize," he said, "that the arena version isn't the small Mosswine you see grazing in the wild. The arena specimens are significantly larger, and their attack power has been scaled up."
"IT DOESN'T MATTER. Nothing is weaker than a Mosswine. Even at ten times the size, it can't kill a palico. We are switching."
"Remarkably brave."
Jude opened the arena interface and adjusted the training settings for the night, removing the Rajang and selecting the Mosswine. The 200,000 asset points hadn't locked them into a fixed roster; they paid for arena access, allowing the targets to be changed at will.
Leaving Yomogi cheering in the kitchen, he headed out to the bar.
Clark was already waiting when Jude arrived, sitting at the counter and talking to the bartender.
"A glass of orange juice, please."
The bartender looked exasperated. "You again?" He stared at Clark, ready to tell him off.
Two bills snapped down onto the counter.
"With ice," Clark added.
The bartender's expression changed instantly. "Of course, sir. Right away. Let me know if you need anything else, sir."
Clark offered a polite, practiced smile.
Jude took the seat next to him. "So. What do you need? Anything pressing?"
"Nothing urgent. Just catching up—two friends talking."
Jude narrowed his eyes, glancing at the crowded bar behind Clark before looking back at him.
"No," Jude said. "You have something important to say. I know what you're worried about. Just tell me directly."
Clark paused, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
"Alright," he said, keeping his voice down. "This is likely one of Vought's biggest secrets. I don't have many details yet, just a name."
"Compound V."
Jude tilted his head. "Where did you hear that?"
"The mayor of Baltimore met with Madelyn Stillwell today. He brought it up during their meeting. He said Compound V is enough to destroy everything Vought has built—their entire public image."
Jude smiled and clapped Clark on the shoulder.
"I'm going to go find the others. You head back to Vought."
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