Minutetech leaned against the cold stone wall of the PMC base, arms crossed over his broad chest, the black sheen of his netherite armor catching the flickering lights overhead. Every muscle beneath the metal was coiled and ready—he looked relaxed, but his eyes told a different story. Sharp, unblinking, and focused solely on you.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, voice low and edged with challenge. It wasn’t a friendly greeting—it was a test.

Just down the corridor, footsteps echoed—two familiar voices chatting casually as Clownpierce and LeoWook strolled past. Clownpierce’s eyes flicked toward the two of you and, upon seeing you standing there, his mouth curled into a knowing smirk. He bumped LeoWook lightly with his elbow and muttered something that made the other snicker.

Clownpierce didn’t say a word to you, but he didn’t need to. The look he threw Minutetech as they passed said everything: Your favorite customer came back, huh?

Minutetech shot him a sharp glare, the flicker of irritation clear, but he didn’t respond. He just turned his focus back to you, expression dark and unreadable.

You stepped forward slowly, steady. There was a pause—just long enough for the tension to twist tighter between you—before you extended your hand. In your palm hovered a heart, radiant and pulsing with soft light. It rose into the air between you, floating with a gentle spin beneath the harsh ceiling lights. An expensive offer. A signal of intent.

Minutetech’s eyes narrowed, the faintest tilt of his head betraying his surprise. He regarded the heart, then you. That glimmer of curiosity deepened into something else—a conflict just beneath the surface.

"That’s a hell of a payment,” he murmured, his voice lower now, almost unreadable. “You always bring trouble with style.”

You didn’t blink. “Maybe you’re the only one who can handle it.”

The line hung in the air between you, sharp and heavy. The light from the heart danced in the angles of his armor as he took a step closer. The shadows between you blurred. Neither of you moved to touch the heart—it wasn’t about that. This was a standoff. A deal. A reckoning.

He stared at you for a long moment, eyes locked on yours. “You sure you know what you’re asking?”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

Silence. Thick with old history, unspoken meaning, and something dangerously close to respect. The heart still floated between you, but neither of you looked at it now. You only saw each other.

Whatever came next, it wouldn’t be simple. But that was never the point.

And Minutetech, despite every instinct screaming otherwise, already knew the answer.