SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery-Chapter 189: Shattered Loyalties, Shaky Deals

For a moment, I just stood there, stunned.

"Bro I don’t know what I’m doing man!"

It wasn’t what he said, but more how he said it. Like a balloon deflating mid-flight. Like he’d been keeping that sentence corked inside his throat for days, maybe weeks. The mask of professionalism, the stillness, the calculated detachment. It had clearly all been paper-thin.

And now?

The man was collapsing in real-time.

"...Alright," I muttered, blinking. "That’s a plot twist."

The sledgehammer slipped from his grip, hitting the concrete with a clunk. He sat down on the beam he’d been hammering, dust puffing around him, rubbing his face with both hands.

"I’m not even supposed to be here, man."

I crouched a short distance away, elbows on my knees. "Start from the top."

He hesitated, then sighed like a man who’d finally given up holding his breath.

"...Billy."

"What?"

"My name’s Billy." He gave me a tired look. "Government agent, if you can even call it that. More like ’panic hire.’ I was a network technician before this. I had a contract to make traffic cameras. Until one day, they tap me and say I’ve got ’clearance potential.’ Next thing I know I’m making cameras in facility in which I’m being briefed on stuff that’d make your nose bleed."

"And they sent you here?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Alone?"

He nodded, rubbing at his temple. "They said I was the closest to the site. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. I was just supposed to go in, grab whatever they needed me to take, maybe blend in a little to not look suspicious. But then you show up and the entire situation becomes...I don’t know, some kind of live-action thriller with high production values."

I stared at him for a moment longer, searching for a tell. But there wasn’t one. His posture was clean, his sweat glands were slowly calming down and he was actually looking at me in the eyes instead of glaring away. I kinda felt bad for the guy.

"And yet," I said, slow and deliberate, "you’re still here."

Billy shrugged. "I almost left like four times. Then I figured, whatever. Might as well finish the errand."

"Still loyal to your agency?"

That got a chuckle. Though it was bitter and brief.

"I’m loyal to my bed. That’s about it," he said. "The minute I clock out, I’m gone. I didn’t sign up for secret projects or skill enhancers or...whatever the hell ’The Cain Protocol’ is. I just wanted to fix cameras."

I tilted my head. "So what’d you pocket?"

Billy hesitated, then fished into his coat and pulled out a small USB stick, encased in black rubber with a single yellow dot near the base. There wasn’t even a label or marking on it.

"I don’t even know what’s on it," he said, holding it out. "They just said retrieve it before ’unauthorized parties’ got here."

"And I guess I count as one of those?"

"Oh absolutely," he said, deadpan, tossing the USB through the air.

I caught it cleanly, turning it over between my fingers.

It felt...weightless. But even in this moment, it pulsed with importance.

I looked at Billy again, he was hunched forward, rubbing his hands together. The poor man was exhausted and unshaven. The government’s dirty laundry had a face now, and it was someone who barely had the energy to get through a sentence.

That was when I remembered why I was here.

I needed to find Evelyn and to do that, I needed to know about the Ministry Building’s disappearance and where they relocated.

I slipped the USB into my pocket.

"You said you didn’t want to be part of this," I said quietly. "So maybe you don’t have to be. But I need information. Real information. I’m talking names, locations, movement trails. Anything that helps me find out where the Ministry went. Or Evelyn."

His head turned slowly. "You’re serious?"

"I always am and I know you know something, since I doubt their new base of operations doesn’t have any cameras."

Billy stared down at his hands. "Man, I don’t want to be in any video. You know how fast they’ll come after me if they hear even a syllable? I’m a paperclip in a sea of missiles."

"You don’t have to show your face."

"Doesn’t matter. They can recognize voices, speech patterns, background noises—"

"I’ll blur your face. Modulate your voice. Hell, I’ll put you in witness protection myself. You’d be working with my side of the government. The one trying to stop this," I said, waving around at the wreckage.

Billy looked up again, a flicker of hope crossing his tired features.

"...You’d actually do that?"

"If you help me finish this event quest? Yeah."

"Wait...You journalists got an event quest from this?"

I coughed into my hand. "Don’t worry about it."

Billy rubbed his jaw, thinking.

"Alright, fine," he said at last. "But you swear you’ll mod my voice? No real name, no face, no location tags?"

"Scout’s honor."

"...There is no way that you were a scout!"

"You get my point, help me, help you, help us," I said, smirking faintly.

He sighed again and stood, brushing the dust off his pants. "Okay. Fine. Let’s do this before I change my mind."

I stood as well, pulling the burner phone back out.

Camera: On.

Mic: Live.

The red light flickered.

Thousands were still watching. Comments were pouring in. Conspiracies. Speculation. Someone had even drawn digital fan art of me standing in the ruins with a sword made of hashtags.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and chaos chasers everywhere," I said, voice sharp and smooth again, "Mr. Jester reporting live—back from the void, and I’ve got something for you."

I stepped aside.

"To my audience: Today, we bring you something unprecedented. An interview with a currently active—though deeply disillusioned—agent from one of the remaining government structures still clawing for power in the East. His identity will remain protected. His face and voice, altered. Trust me....this is the interview of the century."

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