Chapter 909 Conclusion
At this moment, Hera held the reins, and she knew it. She watched as the assassin leader’s expression twisted into a deep scowl. Now he was under pressure. Sure, they could end her with a single silenced shot, clean and fast, but doing so meant walking away from an offer so lucrative it made his hands twitch just thinking about it. The money was right there, within reach. All he had to do was take it... and walk away.
"So, what’s your decision?" Hera pressed, her voice calm but firm, applying psychological pressure to force a response. She knew that pushing now might shake his mental defenses, but unfortunately, the man in front of her wasn’t just any normal person. He was a seasoned assassin, hardened by years of ruthless missions. Breaking his resolve wouldn’t be so easy.
Still, Hera wasn’t fazed. Her confidence stemmed from one simple fact: her resources were practically limitless. If 1.5 billion wasn’t enough to sway him, she could just raise the offer. Sooner or later, the number would be too big to refuse. At some point, they wouldn’t care about their ranking on the mission board, because the money would be enough to buy them a lifetime of luxury.
Although Xavier and Alexandre didn’t know exactly what Hera was planning, they stayed silent. They could sense the shift in the air; Hera was clearly the one in control of the negotiation now.
Intervening at this point might upset the delicate balance of power she had established. So, without a word, they simply stood in front of her like a protective wall, silent sentinels ready to act, but wise enough to let her lead.
The more distressed the voices behind the leader’s earpiece became, the more urgent the decision felt. Yet across from him, Hera sat with composed ease, watching him leisurely, as if time was on her side. That contrast only deepened the pressure weighing on his shoulders. The fate of his group, his fellow brothers, rested entirely in his hands.
Little by little, the tension began to gnaw at him from the inside. Though his face remained unreadable, his palms and soles were clammy with sweat, and a cold dampness spread across his back. He was a seasoned assassin, trained to endure all kinds of pressure, but this? This was the pressure of wealth, of opportunity, of survival.
And money... was its own kind of weapon.
Even his people were starting to shift restlessly. Their faces stayed composed, but he knew them too well. Beneath the calm, they were rattled. They wanted to speak, to act, to accept the offer. They knew time was slipping away. Hera’s bodyguards could break through at any moment, and Alexandre’s reinforcements were on their way. Once surrounded, the silver platter before them would vanish, and with it, the chance to escape both danger and poverty.
It didn’t take long before he caved.