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SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery-Chapter 190: A Mic and a Minefield
Chapter 190: A Mic and a Minefield
I’ve been to Mars, fought fires for multiple hours on end, competed in a mafia tournament and despite all that, this is by far the most dangerous thing I’ve done. Billy stood just outside the camera’s direct line, barely visible. His face was blurred in real-time, voice scrambled to a slightly robotic drawl. A flicker of my hand set the filters in motion, pre-set algorithms kicking in.
I wasn’t nervous.
But I was aware.
Because this wasn’t just an interview. This was a Cold War with one side wired directly into my bloodstream. The minute I said the wrong thing, hell, maybe even hinted at it, they’d have me in front of every global channel before I could say "Mask". We were always walking a tightrope since we both could practically launch nukes of public information against each other in any moment.
So I played my role. My mask smiled like a host at a dystopian game show, sitting on a pile of rubble, knees crossed, mic clipped to my collar. My outfit was still torn, yet people were more invested in the stories and secrets. Only the girls really cared about the injuries on me, though I already knew they were going to chew me alive for having leaving their concerned messages on read.
"Alright, Billy," I said smoothly, "we’re live. You’re live. But you’re safe."
The chat was already foaming:
@ghostcloud42: HOLY CRAP IT’S REAL
@milkthief69: Masked Syndicate who?? I want more Billy lore
@watchtower7: No way this stream doesn’t get banned
I smiled faintly at the last one. They were right. But that was the point. To reveal what they wouldn’t let people see or know.
"Let’s start simple," I said, voice just a touch theatrical. "You were sent here to recover a drive. Why was this site important?"
Billy shifted off-screen. His voice emerged—deeper, fuzzed with static modulation.
"Because this was one of the Eastern Ministry’s satellite hubs. Not just a comms site. This place hosted real infrastructure. Data, transit control, and..." He paused. "...other stuff."
I tilted my head, adjusting the angle to frame him better. Investigative Instinct (Lv. 4) nudged my brain.
"You’re avoiding the word ’experiments.’ Why?"
@catspynetwork: OHHH
@pixelvigilante: pause the tape, run that back
Billy exhaled through his teeth. "Because I don’t know what counted as an experiment anymore. They didn’t exactly label the rooms with skulls and crossbones, you know? But there were floors below access level. Even before the fire, people were getting reassigned or just disappearing."
I nodded. "And this fire...it’s what destroyed the facility, right?"
A pause.
"No. That’s the thing. The facility wasn’t destroyed."
The chat exploded.
@infocrack_07: THEN WHERE DID IT GO
@EXPOS3: EXPOSED
@freedomcore2: OMGGG
I kept my face composed, but internally my pulse tapped once against the inside of my neck.
"I’m going to repeat that," I said clearly. "The facility wasn’t destroyed?"
Billy’s voice was lower now. "It was moved. The fire and its demolition was a cover, an engineered event. Facility lockdown procedures were engaged, then sealed. A few hours later, an order was received to relocate."
@spectremotion: HOW do you move a building
@nullsyntax: This guy had to be lying, this is crazy!
I clenched my jaw at the last one. The question I wanted to ask next started forming: Was the Cain Protocol part of this facility? Were they experimenting on people from other countries? But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
Not yet.
Instead, I leaned forward.
"Where did they move it?"
Billy hesitated.
And I saw it, that flicker of fear under the modulation, the pause that wasn’t technical, but human.
"Outskirts of the city. The forest perimeter, just beyond the hydroline. They’re rebuilding underground. It’s not even fully operational yet. They’re calling it a ’reconstruction project’ for the public, but—"
His voice dipped lower.
"—they’ve got some pretty high level tech. Ultra HD Cameras. Lockdown Protocols. A system to electrify the floors."
I nodded again. Rapid Note-Taking (Lv. 5) activated as I pulled out my notepad, every phrase recorded, time-stamped, ready for processing later.
"Why hasn’t any of this been disclosed to the public?"
"Because it’s not like you’d want the public to know why you relocated and forced resources to be used for your benefit," he said bitterly. "Not to mention that the East’s transparency laws were scrapped last year. They just didn’t publicize it. Everyone thinks we’re still operating under international review."
@whistlertruth: They lied. ALL OF THEM LIED.
@dataherald: Always knew they couldn’t be trusted, smh. Earth is probably flat or smt and they lying bout that too
@mrangel_real??: masked syndicate would never
I felt a tight grin forming but bit it back. Public Perception Management (Lv. 5) whispered to me: Shape the next response. Control the tone. Control the impact.
I shifted in my seat. Let the rubble creak beneath me for effect.
"You’re saying this government not only relocated a classified facility under the guise of a fire, but also rewrote public law in silence?"
"Yes," Billy said flatly.
"And the what about global parliaments? They knew?"
"Oh yeah. Some of them helped fund it."
@fleshbotX: COLD. WAR. Type shit
@tinfoilroyalty: he knows too much. protect Billy at all costs.
My fingers twitched.
I wanted to ask. I really wanted to ask.
But I couldn’t. Not now.
Because if I uttered the words Cain Protocol on a livestream this big, the government would drop every mask they had and shove mine into the spotlight in retaliation. My image. My name. Mr. Angel, Mr. Fox, Mr. Dust, Reynard Vale himself.
They’d link me to everything and I still didn’t know if I could rely on my public image. Being in these countries thought me one thing...that not everyone is a fan of the Masked Syndicate.
So I pivoted.
"Final question," I said, voice still calm. "Why do you think they relocated the facility?"
Billy didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice sounded distant.
"I think...they’re scared. Of whatever they built. Of the people inside. Maybe even of themselves. Relocating it gave them a chance to contain it better. But it also let them hide failures. What better way to erase a mistake than pretend it never existed?"
@bitrot: Jesus.
@justanothernpc: That’s it. I’m out. I’m off grid. freewёbnoνel.com
@synapsehunter: Billy you’re a hero
I let the silence hang for a moment.
Then I nodded once and reached out to turn the mic off. The stream faded, a clean cut. The comments stopped. The world went momentarily quiet.
Billy was already sagging.
"You okay?" I asked.
"No," he said. "But I will be. Maybe."
I reached into my coat pocket and handed him a small folded slip of paper.
"Take this. See that guy near the collapsed stairwell?" I pointed subtly toward Anthony, who was watching the crowd like a hawk.
"Guy in the jacket? Yeah."
"Tell him Jester sent you. He’ll handle the rest."
Billy took the paper and nodded. He didn’t even ask questions this time. Just tucked the slip away and turned toward the ruins.
And I turned toward the trees.
—
The city’s outskirts weren’t hard to find. A few hours hike from the nearest metro stop, just where the power lines dipped into pine forest and disappeared behind fencing that wasn’t quite visible unless you were looking for it.
I crouched in the brush, eyes narrowed.
The facility was there. Thought you wouldn’t even be able to tell as it was half-covered by scaffolding, painted signs of reconstruction lining the outer wall. Civilians would’ve thought it was some kind of environmental station or maybe even a hydro plant. But I knew better.
I tapped open my system as the event quest popped into view.
[EVENT QUEST: Ministry on the Move]
The Ministry Building has fallen and the reasoning has not been publicly disclosed.
Objectives:
Uncover the new location of the Ministry. [Completed]
Deliver the truth to the public before misinformation spreads. [Incomplete]
Optional: Secure an interview with a Ministry official. [Completed]
Timer: 46:37:25
My brow furrowed.
What?
I’d gone live and exposed things that most people hadn’t ever even heard of.
You telling me that’s not enough?
I guess even though the world had heard a whisper of the truth, it wasn’t enough. They hadn’t seen it.
Not yet.
I reached into my bag, pulled out a second burner. No face cam this time. Just audio. Hidden mic embedded in the collar, and a tiny pinhole lens stitched beneath the front flap.
I activated the stream again. The red light blinked silently.
"Back again," I whispered, voice barely audible. "This time off the books."
The stream chat flooded back in within seconds:
@truthkrawler: holy hell HE’S STILL ALIVE
@EYESEEYOU: where are you Mr. Jester
@burntheveil: No shot, he’s going in
I crept forward.
The camera shifted.
The facility gates loomed ahead like teeth.
And the mic caught my final whisper.
"I’m about to walk into a place that doesn’t officially exist. If the stream cuts out... you know where to start looking."
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