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

Suddenly, Lilianna laughed. Her laugh got louder like she was on the verge of getting crazy.

Sarah had a worried look, while Ciel was scared of getting caught by Lilianna’s craziness.

As soon as she stopped, her voice had dropped a full register, "You really want to step into a simulation pod against me?"

"Why not?" Neville said as he shrugged.

"You spent a long time scheming over these little games just to prove your point."

He lifted his eyes.

"So let’s just lay it all bare now. No more fun and games. Just raw piloting."

He crossed his arms.

"Here’s your shot."

Grayson turned to Neville.

"Neville." He called softly with a gentle tone, but his eyes were glinting sharply. "I think we’re already done here. You don’t need to play along anymore. I’ll handle this."

Neville felt the warmth directly in the back of his neck with Grayson’s pheromones.

Lilianna saw their interaction and smelled their trying hard not to be caught pheromones too.

Her inner voice had a different plan, though.

’Why not just kill him? He’s too much. We’ve tolerated him to this extent, and he had the gall to continue acting this way? Absurd, really.’

No.

Lilianna felt like killing Neville all evening, but not literally.

Did she really?

Lilianna began to feel a little off, out of sync with her inner thoughts.

’No? Are you serious?’

For the first time tonight, Lilianna felt really confused. She doubted whether it was really her own thoughts.

Seemingly sensing her thoughts, her inner voice recognized her mistake and said, ’Well then, let’s thrash him as much as we want in the game!’

Sensing that everything was back together, Lilianna smirked.

"You know what?" she said, out loud, to the whole room. "Fine."

Lilianna came over and went face-to-face with Neville. Satisfaction was blooming alongside her smile.

"Don’t blame me when you can’t think straight for a week after I knock your brains out," she said sweetly.

The temperature in the room dropped about ten degrees.

Grayson did not move an inch, but his pheromones began to scatter. He was slowly but surely pressuring Lilianna down to her knees.

At first, Neville didn’t feel a thing since he was in perfect sync with Grayson.

However, he began to notice loose ends in Grayson’s control. It made Ciel, who was closest to them, hold his breath, trying not to make garbled noises in pain.

"Grayson," Neville called, frowning as he reached back at Grayson with one hand.

His fingertips brushed just above Grayson’s wrist, pinching a little flesh and skin a little to scold him.

Grayson pursed his lips, displeased. But he was more surprised that Neville really wasn’t affected by his pheromones.

While he was secretly contemplating, in the unseen corner of the estate, hidden in the shadows, Colonel Vane appeared.

Colonel Vane positioned himself in the direction where only Chronos could see, someone he could trust.

The private ping he had installed and connected to the estate’s barrier earlier just kept on vibrating inside Colonel Vane’s wrist.

When he opened it to check the status, he could see several reports.

Close Contact.

Movement.

Damaged Barrier.

Chronos didn’t so much as blink when he glanced and read what Colonel Vane was signaling. He quickly raised his glass, turned, and made eye contact with Grayson.

They’re here.

That look was enough for Grayson to understand.

The thing about being General Maxwell, even retired early, was that you did not have a real break. You simply had to clean up after other people’s mess.

No questions asked.

Grayson sighed, repeating to himself.

Buy time. Clear the perimeter. Keep civilians contained and unaware.

Above all, do not let Neville within a hundred meters of the estate’s outer barrier.

A mecha virtual pod could, at least, keep him in the room.

"Do what you want," Grayson said.

Neville didn’t expect him to be this quick to agree. He wondered if there was something else. He looked around to see if there was anyone who could answer him, but Grayson forcibly cupped his face steady.

"No," Grayson whispered.

Neville pouted, but he couldn’t do anything about it. It was something that Grayson didn’t want to burden him with.

So we do this fast, Neville thought, and we do it loud.

Lilianna hummed bright and giddy now that she had her way.

She swept past the card table with her hips swinging. Maybe for the people who wanted to see or to remind someone of how long and beautiful her legs were.

"Come on," Lilianna called over her shoulder.

Neville followed.

Grayson fell in at his elbow, hands in his pockets now.

The virtual pods were in a glass-walled alcove off the game room, elevated on a short dais.

The shells curved like crouching beetles with umbilicals of blue light running up their flanks.

A third screen hung above the dais, mirrored now to the holo displays back in the living area so everyone could watch the match in their own comfort.

Ciel began to queue the betting odds despite Thiago scolding him without a break.

Sarah was standing near the base of the dais when they came up. She stepped forward as Lilianna came over.

"Lily—"

"Later," Lilianna said, without so much as a glance, and brushed past her sister.

Sarah’s hands dropped to her sides. She stood there, stranded, brightness drained out of her.

Iris appeared beside her and slid a hand around Sarah’s shoulder.

"Breathe, Sarah," Iris murmured. "She probably didn’t mean it."

"I hope so," Sarah uttered dejectedly.

It was, of course, partly about Sarah, Neville thought, although I don’t know why.

If Neville had not been busy with mind games against Lilianna, he might have taken the time to notice Sarah’s smile getting smaller and smaller when no one was looking.

At the base of the pods, Grayson dropped his voice.

"Listen to me. These pods can run neural sync, but I’m not letting you near that setting."

He was already moving through the console’s gestures, overriding defaults with a string of commands that blurred past.

"Neural sync on an untrained civilian brain can cause permanent damage if you take enough simulated hits. Even partial sync is—"

He shook his head.

"No. Manual controls only. You understand?"