[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

The moment Neville’s footsteps faded down the corridor, Bryan Stewart turned to Grayson with a raised eyebrow, with a smile that never quite reached his eyes.

"You could’ve asked the others," he said casually, though his gaze seemed to see through him. "Julius had some of his people follow us. They can roam around and send us inspection results. Why let Hope go?"

Grayson didn’t look up from the holographic reports flickering above his light brain. "He needs something to do."

"Ah." Bryan leaned forward in his seat, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. "Something to do. Or did you mean—he wasn’t needed here?"

"No." Grayson’s voice dropped, grave and low. "There were others inside."

Bryan’s expression changed. His casual mask cracked just a little and turned serious. He didn’t look around blatantly and continued with his slouched posture, one hand casually adjusting the cuff of his sleeve.

"When?" he whispered, the single word barely more than a breath of air.

"Brace yourself."

The warning had barely left Grayson’s lips when the lights began to flicker.

Bryan’s hand shot to the hidden compartment in his belt, fingers closing around the grip of his laser knife before the lights turned off.

Grayson pulled the specialized gloves he had kept concealed in his inner jacket pocket. It was military-grade equipment capable of delivering a shock double the voltage of a standard taser gun. The reinforced material hummed with barely contained energy as he flexed his fingers.

In the darkness, Grayson’s other senses sharpened. His scales were threatening to emerge as he sensed the danger around him.

Not yet. Not unless absolutely necessary.

Lights On.

A figure materialized less than two meters away, dressed in the gray suit of a maintenance crew but moved like trained combat personnel.

Grayson didn’t hesitate. His gloved hand shot out, catching the attacker’s wrist mid-strike and channeling enough voltage through the contact to drop a full-grown alpha. The assailant convulsed, a strangled cry escaping their lips before they crumpled.

Lights Off.

Bryan’s knife sang through the air somewhere to his left. Then a wet thud was heard as a body hit the floor. He might’ve been a beta, but he had been to the front lines before. His combat instincts hadn’t dulled yet.

Lights On.

Two more figures. One lunging for Grayson’s throat, the other raising a weapon that glinted with the distinctive blue of a sonic stun gun.

Grayson ducked under the grab, using the attacker’s momentum against them to send them crashing into the ground.

Sparks erupted, and the second attacker fired. But Grayson was already moving, the shot sizzling past his ear close enough that he felt the heat graze his skin. He closed the distance in two strides, palm striking the gunman’s chest with enough force to crack ribs even without the electrical discharge.

The taser function activated on contact anyway. The assailant flew backward, convulsing, their weapon clattering uselessly to the floor.

The lights went out, and this time Grayson heard the crack of shattering reinforced glass before the lights returned.

When they did, his stomach dropped.

Another starship had positioned itself alongside their starship.

Through the spiderwebbing cracks in the observation window, he could see the boarding tunnel extending and forcibly connecting the two starships. The star pirates’ vessel bore no identifying marks—just smooth, matte black plating designed to absorb sensor scans.

This wasn’t a random attack.

"They’ve got backups?" Bryan said, his voice strained but controlled. Blood trickled from a cut above his eyebrow, but his laser knife remained steady in his grip. "Looks like there’s a lot of them."

The boarding tunnel completed its seal.

Seconds later, the access hatch burst inward, and enemies began pouring through like a dark flood.

Grayson counted at least fifteen in the first wave alone. They moved in coordinated pairs, covering angles, suppressing fire, herding their targets toward the center of the room.

It seemed that they were not your common star pirates. These people should’ve been mercenaries at one point.

His gloves could only deliver so many charges before needing to recharge.

Grayson grabbed a fallen enemy’s pulse pistol, his finger curled around the trigger.

Two shots, two enemies down.

A third rushed him with an electric baton, and Grayson sidestepped. He used the man’s momentum to redirect him into the path of his own allies.

Bryan was doing his best to hold the left flank, but even from across the room, Grayson could see his movements slowing. The beta had incredible training and experience, but he lacked the enhanced stamina of an alpha beastman. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead, and his breathing had grown ragged.

"Getting rusty, Lieutenant?" Grayson called out, falling back into old habits without thinking.

During their military days, he had ribbed Bryan constantly about desk work, softening him.

"Fuck you, General!" Bryan shot back.

A sonic stun shot caught Bryan in the shoulder.

Bryan stumbled, his left arm going limp. He managed to keep his footing and slice open the throat of an attacker who had gotten too close. But Grayson could see the damage spreading.

Sonic weapons didn’t just cause pain—they disrupted the electrical signals between brain and muscle, creating cascading failures throughout the nervous system.

Bryan needed to fall back.

They both did.

But there was nowhere to fall back to.

More enemies flooded through the boarding tunnel.

Twenty now. Twenty-five.

Grayson’s pulse pistol clicked empty, and he threw it at the nearest enemy with enough force to shatter their visor before closing to hand-to-hand range.

His gloves still had charge—but not much, but still enough for a few blows.

A kick aimed at his head. He blocked with his forearm, the impact jarring but manageable. Then, he grabbed the extended leg and yanked his attacker off balance.

One electrified palm strike to the spine. Down.

Another sonic shot flew.

This one he managed to dodge, but just barely. The blue pulse scorched the wall behind him, leaving a smoking crater in the ship’s interior plating.

"Gray—!"