He had, after all, boarded the ship under the guise of the world's premier arms dealer, granting him unrestricted access to the backstage.
His official cover story was that he needed to conduct a preliminary inspection of a new, highly classified batch of weapon components before they hit the auction block.
With the level of clearance the Joker alias commanded...
Slipping an extra piece of special cargo onto the manifest and rushing it to the stage would be a hassle, but it was far from impossible.
Julian reached for his comms to relay the orders to his men.
"There's no need for that," Serena laughed.
Julian looked up, meeting her gaze.
Serena leaned lazily against the control console, crossing her arms. Her clear, calculating eyes swept over him as she offered a half-smile. "Mr. Joker, aren't you planning to cause a massive scene during the night auction?"
"If you tie your name to Specimen Fourteen right now, how exactly is the rest of your little performance going to play out?"
Her smile deepened into something far more cunning. "It'll ruin the show."
Julian paused, a flicker of realization crossing his eyes.
He wasn't trying to steal the spotlight.
He just saw overriding the system as the fastest tactical solution to get Specimen Fourteen from the logistics corridor to the elevator.
But The Panacea was looking ten moves ahead.
She didn't want the Joker alias tethered to Specimen Fourteen prematurely.
If he registered the pod under his name, the moment it hit the stage and he started causing chaos, every eye in the room would instantly connect him to the anomaly.
The ship's administration would immediately throw their defenses up against him, and the other buyers would smell a setup.
Everyone would suspect that this so-called 'priceless special item' was nothing more than a convoluted scheme orchestrated by Joker from the start.
If that happened, the ensuing chaos wouldn't be nearly as devastating.
Julian looked at her, genuinely impressed. His little sister had brought an incredibly sharp operative into their fold.
She hadn't just calculated every single move Obsidian Sun would make.
She had mapped out the entire psychological battlefield of the auction house before the curtain even went up.
His smile grew warmer. "Then how do you suggest we get it up there?"
Serena tilted her head toward the far end of the logistics corridor "Look Our help just arrived." "
Help?
Julian's gaze sharpened.
His ears caught the faint sound of approaching footsteps.
They were steady, heavy, and
deliberate the unmistakable gait someone with years of elite jactical training.
The gentle warmth vanished from Julian's eyes, replaced by razor-sharp vigilance.
A tall, imposing figure stepped out from the shadows of the corridor.
The man was clad in full black tactical gear, his face obscured by a balaclava.
The insignia on his chest and shoulder proudly displayed the crest of the ship's security detail.
He radiated a suffocating, lethal aura.
Ship security?
Julian's expression darkened. He subtly shifted his weight, stepping seamlessly forward.
He looked casual, but his positioning was flawless, shielding both Serena and the pod behind him.
His eyes narrowed.
Just as he opened his mouth to
interrogate the intruder, net
lazy draw drifted through the arr
"You're a bit late."
The comment clearly wasn't directed at Julian.
He froze, the hostility in his posture faltering for a fraction of a second.
He glanced over his shoulder at Serena.
She was still lounging against the pod. There wasn't a single trace of tension in her
body.
Her tone, her posture, her eyes—everything about her was completely relaxed.
It was a level of comfort that only came with deep familiarity.