The Maid's Wrist-Severing Rampage
I glance around at the suited muscleheads encircling us. Every one of them has an enormous build, with bulging muscles straining against their jackets. Thick veins protrude asymmetrically from their foreheads and temples, like udon noodles. The classic type pumped up on drugs for forced muscle growth. Not quite A-rank awakener level—maybe B-rank at best. But with the severe damage to their vein walls and worn-out organ function, they're probably using something that chews through their lifespan. Casino thugs relying on cheap drugs. They wouldn't even be a match for Cheon Jung-sa back in his human days.
The lead musclehead in a suit steps forward and opens his mouth.
"The boss wants to see you."
The boss. Ugh, these chaebol families are crawling with 'the boss' this and 'miss' that. It's a nightmare.
"Ha. And who the hell is the boss?"
Sia snorts and waggles her finger.
"I don't give a shit who the boss is. Just pay up the winnings. Settle my 45.6 billion and I'll leave nice and clean."
Ooh, the hardboiled loli maid lives up to her name. Not backing down even against these brutes six times her size.
The musclehead's face instantly sheds its fake politeness.
"You crazy tin can bitch. You think we don't know you rigged the machines?"
Oof.
Ahh! How'd they figure it out?
> Glasses-wearing Accident turns from the blackboard and slinks behind it.
Guess even you feel guilty about that one.
"Tin can bitch? You gangster fuck, you lost your mind? And rigging? Got proof? Show it if you do!"
Sia glares and fires back sharply. Her appearance makes it not scary at all, though.
"Keep talking shit like that, and we'll make evidence out of thin air, you cheap tin slut."
"That's hilarious. Sell off all your organs and you still couldn't afford one of my modules."
The verbal sparring heats up. The casino air freezes in an instant, and I spot other patrons quietly slipping away.
"How much do you get paid to be these guys' bitches? You strut around on drug-pumped muscles, but you know constant juicing like that means you won't live past forty, right?"
"You fucking—"
The musclehead, unable to withstand Sia's rapid-fire trash talk, lunges and grabs her by the collar.
Right then—
Whirr.
Sia's eyes contract with a mechanical click, like camera lenses. Super-high-speed eye tracking reads their positions, weapon locations, distance to the exit, ceiling cameras, and the direction of the VIP room.
Ahh, that's—
3 SECONDS TO GO!
The fierce-eyed Accident balls her fists, bouncing with anticipation—
But Sia's raised hand isn't a fist.
"...Fine, I get it."
She slaps away the hand on her collar and snaps,
"I'll go, so let go."
Huh?
> Huh?
The fierce-eyed Accident and my confusion overlap.
Sia smooths the crumpled collar of her maid outfit and steps forward like nothing happened.
Hmm, that's weird. Why isn't she fighting?
> Ah, got it. No point smashing these small fries here—the real boss in the VIP room would just bolt.
Aha. So she's using these thugs like a free taxi service. Straight to the boss in their own limo. Smart move.
We head to the casino's VIP section, surrounded by the suited muscleheads. We pass carpeted hallways, doors with brass handles, and take an elevator. The air grows thicker with the scent of money.
Finally, we arrive at the suite on the top floor of the casino building.
…………
I figured 'the boss' meant someone at least on the level of Mirae Group's top execs, if not Jeong Ah-reum herself.
But the guy beyond the open door is just one of the countless collateral branches of the Jeong family. Still a chaebol scion, so probably a nine-figure billionaire at least.
The man lounging arrogantly on the sofa, legs crossed, looks utterly unimpressive. Dressed in luxury brands, but the suit screams yakuza or mob boss. His face bears a smug grin screaming 'I'm hot shit to be sitting here,' but his presence doesn't match the ego. Textbook fake rich punk kid.
Jeong Hyeong-taek, the so-called director, blows out cigarette smoke and jabs his chin at us.
"What the fuck are you bitches doing rolling in here? Little girls messing with the adults—what's this bullshit?"
"Little girl my ass! I'm about your mom's age!"
The hardboiled loli maid's retort leaves Director Jeong's mouth half-open. Ash drops onto his lap from the cigarette, but he's frozen, oblivious.
Sia's gotten even more foul-mouthed since becoming Cheon Jung-sa in a new body. Her girly looks compared to her burly mercenary days probably amps up the aggression.
Director Jeong's face crumples.
"Hah, a real psycho tin can bitch."
He grinds out his cigarette in the ashtray and gestures. His face mixes annoyance and sadistic glee.
"Boys, just kill 'em and bury the bodies somewhere."
At the order, the muscleheads—who'd already surrounded us—draw blades from inside their jackets in unison.
Whoa. Even if we're not really girls, we sure look like it. Ordering a hit on us without hesitation, and them jumping to obey. These guys are rotten.
But before their blades can even glint—
Time stops. Or rather, Sia moves so fast it looks like they froze.
Her hand blurs faster than a blink, and to normal eyes, it'll seem like a vibrating knife just appeared in her grip. The acceleration from her custom high-performance android motors. In that instant no human eye could catch—
I've already stepped out of the fray, leaning back on the sofa. I pull a twelve-tier dessert tower borrowed wholesale from Jeong Ah-reum's mansion from my body subspace and pop a piece of baklava into my mouth.
Nom.
Mmm... So luxurious. Makes me wanna visit her place every day.
Savoring the sweet, nutty bliss filling my mouth, I gaze fondly at Sia's back.
Go get 'em, refined loli android maid.
Hehehe.
…………
I'd geared up for a show, but it barely qualifies as a 'fight.'
Sia's vibrating knife slices through the air with a whoosh.
Only after she wipes the blood on a musclehead's suit and tucks the knife into her garter belt do they realize what happened.
The wrists gripping their blades—severed from their arms, plopping down.
Blades clatter on the floor, and then the screams erupt.
These were guys who charged in to bury two girls alive without a second thought. So Sia shows no mercy. Well, sparing their lives might be her version of going easy.
Blood sprays everywhere, wrists rolling across the luxury carpet.
Hmm, that last one gets the Indian rice punishment.
Thwack thwack.
> Ahh! I won't do it again!
As the little accidents give the racist one Indian rice taps—
The suite situation advances to the next phase.
Sia looms over Director Jeong, who's frozen gripping his sofa armrest.
"We know you're the money guy funneling laundered cash from this casino. Spill who you're sending it to."
Director Jeong's lips twitch.
"I-I... don't know anything. For real. The underlings handle it—I'm just a figurehead."
"Ha... you expect me to buy that? Then call one of those underlings here."
"That's..."
Director Jeong glances around but clams up. Fed up, Sia presses the vibrating knife to his throat.
"You little shit, testing me? Wanna die right here?"
"N-no, it's..."
Cold sweat pours down Director Jeong's face. His jaw trembles, pupils dilated in terror.
But he won't crack.
Whoa. Even after taking a few punches from Sia midway, he keeps his mouth shut. Must hurt like hell.
> Probably not loyalty—more fear of retaliation. In these orgs, snitches and their whole families get wiped out.
Huh? Can't hear well. Anyway, manly guys with loyalty are cool. Outer God Girl favor +1.
But favor aside, it'd help if he talked. So—
You kids, lend a hand.
The little accidents nod in unison. A single strand of hair, nanometers thick, burrows into Director Jeong's carotid and climbs to his brain. A few kids cling to the tip, hopping across his cerebral cortex.
Language production, comprehension, vocal control. All three seized at once.
Director Jeong's eyes bulge.
"Uh, uh, uuuugh—"
His jaw forces open. He strains his facial muscles to shut it, but against his will, his tongue moves and words spill out.
"Jeong Il-seok, the executive VP—he's preparing a coup."
Terror-stricken tears stream from Director Jeong's eyes. His unyielding resolve glints in his pupils, but it's meaningless against the brain-hijacking little accidents.
"Jeong Il-seok is hiring mercenaries en masse to seize control of Mirae Group—"
Hic, hic. Amid choking sobs,
"—and in exchange for 15% of the group's shares post-coup, he secured a troop commitment from Leon Dusk of Nikola. I'm one of the funders for the plan."
I see. One of the big shots was gunning for Mirae Group's throne. Promised shares upfront to Leon Dusk for backup.
But thinking it over...
This is pretty stupid. Even if the coup succeeds, the whole group falls to Nikola in a few years. A guy like Leon Dusk won't sit pretty on just 15%. He'll snatch it all at once or gobble shares gradually to become majority owner.
Leon Dusk is that kind of man.