Location: Shooting Rang, Umbra Operations HQ, Dallas, Texas, USA
Time: 11:55 am
Graves nearly laughed out loud. That one clearly hit a nerve. He gave a low scoff, shaking his head:"Oh, sweetheart. That's some taste you've got.But that sentence? That's just a crime.The Desert Eagle looks sexy, sure. Flashy as hell, makes a statement.But as far as actual combat use? Useless."
"Big, heavy, low mag capacity, terrible follow-up speed, like firing a cannon in a dance-off. Looks great. Functions like crap." Lyra was unfazed, her voice still calm:"It was a gift. From a man who gave it to my father. I held onto it for a while.Gold-plated frame. Flashy. And yes, it was very heavy."
Graves snorted with amusement, clearly picturing the absurdity."A gift, huh?Sounds like a flex if I've ever heard one.I can already see it,one of those gold-plated beasts weighing more than it's worth."
"Sweetheart, let me be honest,what you had wasn't a weapon. It was a piece of jewelry. Pretty as hell.Functionally useless. But with me you would be able to try the real weapons!" He went on bragging, unaware that somewhere between his words and his pride, he had left his guard down and his defenses were already slipping.He even forgot that the woman standing before him held equity in one of the most advanced weapons research companies in the world.
Lyra only watched in silence, the faintest trace of a smile playing at her lips and kept telling herself:The more he talks, the more effort he puts in. All of this, nothing more than a quiet, calculated trap.
Lyra listened to his comment, the corners of her lips curling ever so slightly, amusement flickering in her expression. "Jewellery, that's actually a perfect description. But…if the day ever comes when I am around you, but need a practical weapon for self-defense … it probably means Umbra is no longer on my side."
Arthur's chest tightened instantly.How dare she drop a test like that so casually? His face stayed hard, tension running through him for several long seconds before he spoke in a low voice:"…Don't joke about that, sweetheart."
Lyra only gave a faint smile and let it go. She knew he couldn't give promises,and that was fine. She wasn't here for promises. She was here for contracts. "Since I'm already here… if it's not too much trouble, would you show me a few things?It's been a long time since I've been on a range.I'd like to experience Umbra's firing culture… and maybe try the Commander's favourite weapon."
Arthur gets an inside roar. This woman. She really knew how to keep him on his toes. Give him the stage, hand him the spotlight. He gave a rough chuckle, his eyes lighting with interest."You want me to teach you? Christ, Sweetheart… you are full of surprise."
As he spoke, his calloused fingers closed around her hand, not hard, but deliberate."But of course sweetheart, I'd be happy to teach you a thing or two. So what do you want to start with? A Glock? MP7? Or should we go straight to something classic, like the M4?"
In that moment, he straightened his posture, carrying himself with the pride of an officer still in service. Lyra turned her head slightly, gathering her hair back in one smooth motion."Since it's you personally giving the lesson…I'd like to try your favourite, the custom M4A1. Would that be alright?"
Arthur's smile widened instantly, satisfaction flickering across his face like a man who'd just been understood perfectly. "Ah, sweetheart… you do know me. M4A1 the ONE the ONLY. I'm more than happy to share it with you. Nothing gets your heart racing like running an M4A1 on full-auto, and I can promise you, with this beauty, you're going to put on one hell of a performance today." He grinned, a flash of steel in his eyes, and rose from the table."Come on, Lyra girl. Let's hit the range. I'll give you a demonstration first."
She nodded, falling into step beside him, her tone steady yet measured."Yes, Commander…and, thank you." Arthur arched his left brow."Oh? For what?" Lyra's lips curved faintly."For everything."
She said everything because she knew he'd already seen through her probing. Yet instead of calling her out, he'd chosen to let it play, accepting the test with a kind of patience and curiosity.
This man was not just a brainless soldier.To rise from nothing to become the Commander of the world's most formidable PMC, his grasp of power and politics rivalled that of any statesman.
Perhaps it was time to start laying her cards on the table. After all, the kind of play no one can resist… is an open one. Hearing her say, "Yes, Commander," stirred something in him.
He'd heard that title a thousand times, on the battlefield, on the training grounds, in the salutes of countless soldiers.But when it came from her lips, it carried a weight he couldn't ignore, and a faint flash of pride broke through his composure.
And when she followed it with a quiet thank-you for everything he'd done, it softened him in a way he hadn't expected.They both knew the game and played it well. He understood her as well as she understood him. For people like them, living in a web of schemes was the norm; sincerity was the one poison without an antidote."No need to thank me, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and certain. "I'd do anything for you."
With that, he reached for his custom M4A1 and led her toward the range, grabbing a few sets of earmuffs, shooting glasses, and a stack of fresh targets along the way."First thing, sweetheart, let's get your stance right."
He had never imagined that one day, he would hand his favorite weapon to a queen of capital. Her grip was textbook,precise and clean,but she had never seen real combat. The first shot sent a sharp recoil through her body, making her sway ever so slightly.
Almost instinctively, Arthur's hand came to her waist from behind, steadying her. His voice was low, measured."Don't fight the recoil. Borrow my strength. No need to try to be a hero." Lyra didn't turn around. Her reply was soft but certain."So that's why you said,no one fights alone on the battlefield."
She knew how to make a man lower his guard,not with weakness, but with resonance.If she could pull the trigger again and again in his arms, he would feel her heartbeat through the tremors of her body, her composure, and a kind of trust he had never experienced with any supplier or partner before. She spoke no words like payment, profit, or contract.Instead, she placed herself in this space, his weapon, his ground, his rhythm. She wasn't making demands. She wasn't bargaining for control. She was entering his system, becoming a part of it.
And Arthur began to sense, this woman didn't just understand business. She understood him.Perhaps even better than any other girls he ever met, when he would soften, when he would hand over command.
"This isn't negotiation," he murmured, his Adam's apple shifting slightly. "This is a surrender by seduction." Lyra didn't deny it. She only asked quietly,"Do you want me to stop?"
Arthur's grip on the rifle tightened, but he said nothing.Because he knew, he was no longer the sole commander her.From the moment she walked in, he had become a piece on her board. "First things first, darlin',let me fix your stance."He motioned for her to step in front of him, his hands brushing over her shoulders and waist, adjusting her posture with deliberate precision. "Feet shoulder-width apart. Keep your base steady, weight slightly forward.This way you control the weapon better while keeping enough mobility. Understand?"
Lyra nodded faintly. "But that's only good for a stationary range. In a real fight, you'd never notice what's behind you."
"Smart girl." He nodded, a slow smile forming in his eyes."You've got an eye for detail. Most rookies don't even think about that. Yes,this stance limits your field of view, but the control it gives you is worth it. Even if you can't see everything, it's worth every damn shot."His mouth curved into a wider grin as his hands lowered, adjusting her hips for a more solid base.