Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit
Chapter 107 – The Million-Dollar Heist

Chapter 107 - The Million-Dollar Heist

“Welcome to our humble abode, Mister Zaft Callahan. And welcome back to you too, Mister Neil Orbeus,” Ismail greeted, his arms spread wide like a showman on stage, his voice dripping with artificial warmth.

With a casual wave of his hand, the women lounging on the leather sofas wordlessly dispersed, gliding away like obedient shadows. All but two. These two remained planted firmly behind Ismail, flanking him like statues. They were different—sharper, tenser. Even in their revealing shorts and cropped jackets, there was a weight to their presence. The faint outline of holstered sidearms peeked from their hips, betraying their purpose. Worse still, each of them clutched a morpher. WAIFUs.

“I believe Fei Xian has already briefed you on our cause,” Ismail continued, his tone becoming more businesslike. “And given that you’ve arrived with Neil, I take it he’s already spilled the beans.”

“More or less,” I replied, forcing a smirk that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Then let us proceed with proper introductions,” Ismail said, straightening his back with pride. “Welcome to the Xyraxis Headquarters of the Neo Terrestrial Reich. I am Ismail Arondight, commander of the NTR’s operations here in Xyraxis Metropolis. Despite what you’ve read—or been told—we are not terrorists. I prefer the term revolutionaries.”

“That’s basically the same thing,” I muttered, just loud enough for Neil to hear.

Ismail ignored the remark—or pretended to. “Terrorism is not our purpose,” he said, lifting his cybernetic fist, its servos humming faintly as it clenched, “but it is our means. We intend to seize control of this planet, to dismantle the Kaiserin’s regime, and ultimately to sever all ties with the Earth. With your mysterious power, Zaft, we will succeed.”

“Why do you want this revolution so much?” I asked, my tone even, but my eyes locked onto his.

“For vengeance… and for justice,” Ismail Arondight replied, his voice darkening. His brow furrowed like storm clouds gathering, and his crimson cybernetic eyes narrowed into a cold, mechanical glare that bored straight into me. “You already know about the inhumane experiments conducted by the United Nations. The HUSBANDOs.”

My gaze flicked toward Neil. He stood stiffly at my side, his shoulders taut, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened. A subtle tremor betrayed the weight of memory pressing down on him. Then I turned back to Ismail, steadying my voice.

“I’ve got no quarrel with Earth’s people,” I said coolly. “So let’s skip the propaganda and talk terms. My recruitment terms.”

“Oh?” Ismail's lips curled into a sharp smile, the kind a man wears when he’s both curious and amused. “And what exactly do you seek?”

“First.” I raised a single finger. “I want an acceptance fee for the use of my powers. One million dollars. Upfront. Consider it as a capital investment.”

Ismail’s smile twitched, and his brows tightened. “That’s quite steep.”

“You’d actually be saving money,” I shot back with a grin that didn’t try to hide its edge. “A single Minuteman ICBM costs around seven million dollars. Hire me, and I’ll give you something better. I can spawn a sword that splits atoms every time a WAIFU swings it.”

“Hmmm…” Ismail scratched his chin, his cybernetic fingers making a faint click against his stubbled jaw. “Maybe we can go with that.”

Then, with a sharp snap of his fingers, one of his WAIFUs moved with robotic precision. From the shadows behind him, she stepped forward and placed a sleek, metallic briefcase on the low glass table between us. With a practiced motion, she unclasped the case and flipped it open, revealing neatly stacked bundles of hundred-dollar bills. My mouth went dry. It was a small mountain of cash—clean, crisp, and undeniably real.

Where the hell did Ismail get this kind of money just lying around?

“One million dollars,” he said calmly. “Consider the bonus half million an advance. Think of it as an investment… in potential.”

He leaned back, folding his hands together like a seasoned negotiator—but there was a glint of calculation in his eyes.

“But I have a counter-condition.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What is it?”

Ismail’s tone turned curious, almost reverent. “Tell me… the source of your power. I’ve never seen anything like your Weapons of Mass Destruction. Not in any registered WEEB System, not even among the Clearance Level 200s. Whatever you’re using, it’s not just some upgraded cyber enhancement. I believe this knowledge would be a fair exchange.”

I felt Neil’s eyes on me—quietly anxious, silently pleading. He knew what I might say. And still, I gave him a fleeting glance and smiled. This wasn’t a decision made in the moment. I had already made peace with it.

I straightened my posture and spoke clearly.

“I was baptized… as the First Apostle of the Machine God.”

For a beat, silence ruled the room.

“Even I don’t fully understand the true depths of my power,” I admitted. “But I know that it comes from that outer god… a divine intelligence that sleeps beneath the lattice of reality.”

“Machine God, huh…” Ismail murmured, stroking his beard now with thoughtful fingers. His crimson cyber-eyes flickered faintly, as if recalculating everything he thought he knew. “Are you part of the Occult of Mechanoss?”

All of a sudden, my vision fractured—static rippled across my eyes like a broken screen. My ears filled with a sharp, hissing ring, a noise that clawed into my skull. For a fleeting second, I saw it: a white classroom, sterile and eerily silent, like a forgotten memory dragged from the depths of a corrupted dream.

Then—darkness. Everything blinked out, as if someone had switched off reality like an old television.

When I opened my eyes, I was back. The pounding music of the lounge came roaring into my ears again, neon lights stinging my vision, and Ismail’s red cybernetic gaze locked firmly onto mine—unblinking, analytical, and faintly disturbed.

What the hell was that?

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, trying to play it off. “What was that again?”

Ismail’s eyes were still wide, his posture a little too stiff. For a moment, he looked like he’d just glimpsed something not meant for mortal comprehension. Then, with a sudden burst of forced laughter, he waved it away. “Never mind. I won’t dig deeper. Some holes, once opened, become graves.”

I wanted to ask—press him, get answers, claw at that moment of weakness—but I held myself back. I had just pocketed a million dollars, practically untouched. It wasn’t the time to test the waters too hard.

“Let’s move on to my second request,” I said, raising two fingers. My tone dropped low and firm. “This one’s important. I know it should go without saying, but I want your promise: you will never harm anyone close to me. Ever.”

Ismail’s expression softened just a little, shifting into something almost gentlemanly. “Of course,” he said with a nod. “The NTR will never touch those you care about. We will lay no hand on Miss Myrrh Alicent.”

"Not just her. But Fei Xian as well."

"Of course."

A quiet breath escaped my lips. “Good.”

I rose to my feet and extended my hand toward him.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Commander Ismail Arondight.”

“You too. Welcome to the Neo Terrestrial Reich,” Ismail Arondight said as he clasped my hand in a firm handshake.

It was more than just a greeting—it was an iconic seal, a moment carved in history. The deal was done. A million dollars now sat inside my briefcase, practically glowing with power. Myrrh was safe, far from the reach of this twisted revolution. And with this new alliance, I’d just taken one bold step closer to uncovering the secrets behind the Cosmic Tree.

Or so I thought.

“Hey, Ismail,” Neil’s voice suddenly cut through the moment, breaking the subtle tension like a glass dropped on tile. He stood up sharply, his body taut with emotion. Ismail and I instinctively withdrew our hands and turned toward him.

“Is Fei free now?” Neil asked, his tone trembling under its own weight.

Fei tilted her head, her expression innocent, like a confused puppy. “Neil?”

Ismail blinked, caught off guard.

Neil took a breath and repeated, firmer this time: “I’ll ask again. Is Fei free now? From her clan’s obligation to the NTR?”

Fei’s eyes sparkled with a sudden, overwhelming hope. She placed her hands over her heart, as if bracing it.

Ismail glanced at her, then at Neil—and then gave a slow, resigned smile. “Yes. You are free now, Fei. You and your clan. The Neo Terrestrial Reich claims no further hold over you. Go and live.”

Fei’s lips parted in disbelief. Her eyes widened, glassy and bright.

Neil smiled at her, a softness breaking through the tension. Then, as if remembering something greater, he turned to me and gave a silent nod of gratitude.

I returned a small smile to Ismail—polite, calm, professional.

Then, casually, I reached down to the ring on my finger and turned it: clockwise once… twice… counterclockwise once… and again clockwise.

Click.

Ismail’s crimson eyes sharpened, pupils tightening like camera lenses. “I’m detecting a Morse-code radio signal,” he muttered. Then his expression twisted. “You—what did you just do?”

His revolver was out in a flash, barrel aimed squarely at my chest.

“Oh? So your precious tech can’t crack analog?” I grinned. “Figures.”

Then the ceiling above us detonated in a violent thunderclap.

BOOM!

Plaster and debris rained down as a blinding flash engulfed the tavern. My ears rang like sirens, and everything around me turned into a blur of white and fire. The WAIFUs scrambled. Shouts echoed. Ismail vanished behind the smoke.

Using the chaos, I bolted.

The briefcase of money was clutched tight in my arms as I sprinted through the carnage, my boots pounding the floor. Every second was precious. Every step a gamble.

But I had what I came for.

And I wasn't leaving empty-handed.