Don waited calmly on the chair he had been assigned in the lobby.
His quest for a slave had finally led him to what, up front, seemed like a therapy clinic.
But he knew better. That was just a cover-up for the business that was going on within the walls of the building where he now sat.
A war was coming.
The attack on him at the Hotel Del Ray was evidence of that.
Ever since he acquired the Sentient system, it had been one battle or another for him.
(Reminiscing)
{Welcome, New Sentient Master}
{Designation: Don Brandon}
{Master Level: Low Rank}
That was the first message he received once he woke up after he killed his master.
He stripped the alien of anything she had on her that could be helpful (nothing much, really).
Then, he proceeded to bury her body.
{Quest: Enslave Low-Level Mutant}
{Reward: 150 / 1000 Level Points}
The system had given him instructions for the quest, and well, it hadn't been easy.
{Master Curse Acquired}
{Designation: Sexual Intimacy Required for Enslavement}
He could not believe what was being displayed in front of his visor.
He had thought that the condition required for Enslavement was just consent.
He remembered the alien forcing him to agree to be her slave. That had been the trigger.
However, it seemed it wasn't the same for him.
He needed to have sex with anyone he wished to enslave, and it had to be consensual.
That meant rape or blackmail would not work.
It seemed that had been his punishment for killing a Sentient.
Looking back at that time, getting Lilith had been kind of a challenge, but once the slave bond was formed between them, she became his greatest asset.
Jamil, on the other hand… well, he wasn't ready to think about it.
With every slave he had acquired, his stats had increased.
{2 / 10 Slaves Acquired}
{Reward: 350 / 1000}
He had gotten extra points for completing smaller stats.
Now, he was on a new quest to find another slave—one that could help him stay protected.
Over the years, news of his existence had spread across the New Earth, despite all he did to stay hidden.
At first, he had thought his greatest enemies would be the human mutants.
But he soon realized that the human race was merely a breeding ground for the Sentients.
They hovered in space above Earth's atmosphere and would occasionally descend to select individuals with preferable mutations to make their slaves.
They couldn't care less about the human species and treated them like a commodity.
Anyone who refused a slave bond was eventually coerced into accepting it.
The unyielding ones were taken up to their space dome, which they called the Motherland, and imprisoned there.
News of him soon reached the Sentient Masters, and he had been on the run ever since.
His alias, the Shadow Master, had made him very notorious, but at the same time, it had protected his true identity.
It was for this reason that he was seated in the waiting room of what was supposed to be a therapy clinic, but was actually a cover-up for a fortune-telling business.
He was after a particular mutant—a female rumored to possess the ability to see beyond the present.
The waiting room was well furnished, with well-cushioned chairs and magazines to keep clients occupied while they waited.
There were two other individuals seated, just like him, waiting to see a therapist—or a seer. Either way, he couldn't care less.
He had come alone, trying his best not to draw any unnecessary attention to himself.
Don was doing his best to avoid a repeat of what happened at the Hotel Del Ray.
"Mr. D," the receptionist called out after getting off a telephone call.
"You can go in now—the first door to your left," she added, motioning with her right hand toward the enormous door that faced the waiting area.
Don got to his feet and, before walking off, took a last glance at the receptionist.
She had a permanent smile on her face—one he guessed she put on just because of her job.
Her dress was quite modest, but it definitely failed to hide the gorgeous body she had underneath.
Looking at her, all Don could think of was how nice it would have been to fuck her.
However, he had pressing matters to attend to. He couldn't get distracted now.
He had a slave to acquire.
Disappearing through the gigantic door, he soon arrived at the smaller door that had been described to him.
He knocked out of habit and then proceeded to open it without waiting for a response.
The moment he stepped inside, his eyes fell on his target.
Sitting on a cushioned chair across the room, facing the door, was a woman, probably in her twenties.
Her black hair rested carefully on her shoulders in smooth, glistening waves.
She wore a white silk dress that matched the tone of her body.
However, her most prominent feature was the small black lace cloth that ran across her face and covered where her eyes should have been.
Was she blind?
And if she was, why not just wear dark shades?
Was this the issue Lilith had talked about back at the hotel after she returned from the reconnaissance he had ordered her to carry out?
He suddenly became unsettled.
But it was too late to turn back now.
Too much was on the line.
"Hi, I'm Miss Hermione. You requested a therapy session."
The lady finally spoke without moving her head, even though Don was outside her supposed field of view.
What were the odds that the mutant he was searching for was blind?
This was a complication he wasn't prepared for.
"You are Mr. D, right?"
"Please, take a seat," she added, pointing her right hand toward the cushioned chair in front of her.
Don hesitated for a split second, but finally sat down, now facing her.
"I would like to start by saying that this is a safe space, and whatever information you disclose stays—"
Don flared.
"Look, let's cut to the chase," he said, getting to his feet, unable to hold it together any longer.
"I know this is just a front for your actual business."
"I know who you really are—what you really are!" he concluded, his voice rising slightly.
He took a step back and paused to reassess his outburst.
Was it a wise idea to come at Hermione like that? he thought.
His initial plan was to start a conversation and then slowly break through.
He had even considered taking multiple therapy sessions just to get what he wanted.
However, finally meeting her face-to-face had ignited a kind of rage in him.
When he had gotten information about a female seer, he had expected a strong, confident woman.
The person in front of him was just a lady—an innocent-looking, fragile lady.
"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, acting oblivious.
Don opened his mouth to speak, then stayed silent.
His words would determine how the situation played out, and losing his temper wasn't going to help.
He decided he needed time to breathe, so he headed for the door.
He was going to return when he felt calm.
"Don, wait," Hermione spoke softly from behind him.
He froze.
He could not recall mentioning his name to her or giving it while booking the appointment.
He turned to face her, his expression puzzled.
She kept a straight face.
"What did you call me?" he asked.
"I know who you are too," she said.
Then, a system message appeared—as it always did at the least expected moment.
{Mutant Detected}
{Name: Hermione Davis}
{Tier: Level 2}
{Ability: Unregistered}