The Incubus System Chapter 722. Hard Bargain III

The Incubus System Chapter 722. Hard Bargain III

Mrs. Clea's PoV

After a short tense pause, one of the silhouettes spoke up, attempting to restore a sense of calm to the room. "So, if I understand correctly, you agree to the project under the condition that Ethan Strongheart retains his memory and emotions," they summarized, their tone measured and composed.

Mrs. Clea nodded, her expression unwavering. "Yes, that's correct," she confirmed. "But there's one more condition: I will personally oversee the project and become Ethan's mentor," she declared, her words leaving no room for negotiation.

"Oh, what a brilliant idea!" one of the silhouettes sneered, dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, it's such a genius plan to turn Ethan Strongheart into your personal weapon against us," another chimed in, their words heavy with suspicion.

Mrs. Clea's gaze hardened as she met their gazes head-on. "You think I'm asking for too much?" she retorted, her voice tinged with a hint of defiance. "After you used him as bait, is it really too much to ask for? Besides, let's not forget your own words," she reminded them, her tone laced with cynicism. "You said yourselves that there's no guarantee this vaccine will even work on him."

"Is that another threat?" one asked, his voice laced with a hint of unease.

She shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "That's not a threat," she responded, her tone tinged with amusement. "I'm simply stating the facts as they are."

One of the senators leaned forward, their eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "You seem awfully confident in your plan," they remarked, their tone veering between curiosity and suspicion.

A determined smile played at the corners of Mrs. Clea's lips as she met their gaze. "I am confident," she affirmed, her voice steady. "Because I know Ethan better than anyone."

The senators couldn't help but smirk in response. “You should stop threatening us, Clea,” one of them said. "I wouldn't speak as confidently as you if I were you."

"Think again," another retorted, his voice filled with a hint of amusement. "Just because you don't have anyone and have severed your ties doesn't mean you are without weaknesses. So, I suggest you watch your words carefully."

A knowing smile played on Mrs. Clea's lips as she met their gaze. "You may hide behind your monitors, thinking you're shielded from scrutiny, but rest assured, I am well aware of your weaknesses," she declared, her voice steady and confident.

The tension in the room intensified as her words hung in the air. The senators glanced at each other, their expressions a mix of surprise and unease. Mrs. Clea's bold response had caught them off guard, reminding them that she possessed knowledge that could potentially expose their vulnerabilities.

One of the senators, their voice dripping with annoyance, demanded an explanation. "What do you mean?" he asked, his tone bordering on impatience.

"I'll make it simple for you," she continued, her tone carrying a blend of determination and defiance. "You fear the great demon, and deep down, you know that the missile won't be effective against him. So, the only ones who can protect you are us, the demon hunters. Isn't it about the time you guys treated us better?" Mrs. Clea stated bluntly, her words cutting through the tension in the room. The senators shifted uncomfortably behind the screens, their expressions betraying a mixture of apprehension and realization.

A wave of unease swept over the room as Mrs. Clea's words sank in. The senators, who had long regarded themselves as the puppeteers pulling the strings from behind, relied on the very individuals they had underestimated and mistreated. The realization hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the previously self-assured senators.

"Pfft! Hahahahahaha! That's absurd!" one of them exclaimed, his voice dripping with derision. "What makes you think that you, demon hunters, are better than the missiles?"

She met their laughter with a calm and steady gaze. "The fact that we can actually engage in direct combat," she stated matter-of-factly, not mincing her words. "Unlike a mere missile that is limited to its destructive capabilities, we possess the skills and expertise to face the demons head-on."

A hush fell over the room, punctuated by the weight of her statement. The senators exchanged uneasy glances, their smug expressions faltering in the face of Mrs. Clea's unyielding confidence.

But they weren't ready to concede just yet. Another senator spoke up, their voice carrying a hint of defiance. "You may have your strength, but some of us have troops that possess abilities comparable to yours," they argued.

Mrs. Clea leaned forward, a glint of determination in her eyes. "But none of your troops have directly encountered the great demon and his subordinates," she retorted, her voice cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. "How can you be sure that they can handle him? Experience and firsthand knowledge matter in this battle."

The room fell silent, the senators grappling with the truth embedded in her words. Their troops, however skilled they may be, lacked the invaluable experience of facing the true horrors of the demonic realm. Mrs. Clea's blunt reminder forced them to confront the limitations of their forces and acknowledge the necessity of the demon hunters' expertise.

One senator, their voice laced with begrudging admiration, spoke up. "Fine, you've made your point," they conceded, their tone grudgingly acknowledging the validity of Mrs. Clea's argument. "But what guarantee do we have that Ethan will remain loyal and not turn against us?"

A small smile played at the corners of her lips. "Trust," she replied simply, her tone filled with conviction. "I kept an eye on Ethan for quite a while. I have seen his dedication, his sense of justice, and his unwavering loyalty to our cause. I believe in him, and I trust that he will remain steadfast."

Soon, the room buzzed with whispered conversations. It was too risky.

Mrs. Clea stood her ground, her patience wearing thin. "So, what's your answer?" she pressed, her voice edged with a hint of impatience.