SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery-Chapter 252: A Limit for Recognition

We moved like shadows through steel.

Camille’s disguise held, but not perfectly. Even with her work stitched from full-level skills, we were still three people supporting a fourth, slinking through concrete passageways that echoed more than they should’ve. Our steps were silent, our breathing shallow, but every shift in fluorescent lighting felt like a spotlight. Every door we passed was another roll of the dice.

The disguise she gave me was sharp-edged and imposing. A tactical coat with stitched rank bars and subtle weave illusions that bent the air slightly around my shoulders, making me seem taller, broader. Higher rank. Alexis and Sienna wore similar layers, though Camille’s touch was different for each of us. Alexis had the air of precision—something clinical, hard to look at for too long. Sienna looked dangerous in a more grounded way. Me? I looked like I gave orders.

Or that was the idea.

Camille was barely breathing.

She hung limp on Sienna’s back, arms swaying with each step, her pulse light but steady. I couldn’t tell if she’d woken up again since the collapse. But her handiwork had already carried us further than we would’ve managed alone. I owed her. I owed all of them.

We approached a junction—Sublevel Three etched into the old security placard overhead. The lighting down here was worse. Yellowed and twitching. Like even the power grid didn’t want to stay conscious.

"Still picking up the signal," Alexis whispered. Her eyes flicked between the handheld panel she’d scavenged from the Tier 3 console and the darkened hallway ahead. "Anthony and Evelyn are about 70 meters east, two locked corridors down."

"Security?" I asked.

"Sparse. Patrols are tighter upstairs. They think we went higher, not lower. But there are checkpoints." Her voice lowered. "And facial scans."

That stopped me.

I hadn’t said it aloud yet.

But it had been gnawing at the back of my mind for the last ten minutes.

I reached up and brushed my fingers along the edge of the collar Camille made me. It concealed most of my throat, cast shadows just right under the cheekbones. But that wouldn’t fool a scanner. Or a guard who’d watched even a fraction of the global broadcast. The mask I’d used during the Syndicate days was off. The world had seen my face.

Reynard Vale. The Jobmaster. Traitor. Terrorist. Candidate. Monster. Pick your flavor.

And if one of them looked closely—

"You okay?" Sienna asked, shifting Camille’s weight gently.

I blinked.

Nodded. "Yeah. Just thinking."

"Stop doing that," Alexis muttered. "You get that look. Like you’re about to make things worse."

"I—"

I cut myself off as voices echoed down the corridor.

We pressed against the wall. I moved instinctively, shoulder brushing the cold pipe-laced surface. Alexis ducked beside me. Sienna eased Camille down, crouching behind a stack of old metal crates.

Two guards rounded the far end.

Disguises held. No alarm.

But I saw the flick in one of their eyes. Not recognition. Just a pause. Like he was trying to place something. Or someone.

"Rank and pass," the first one demanded, glancing at my coat.

I stepped forward, voice clipped and annoyed. "Override six, direct clearance from the upper directorate. Emergency resource transfer. We were told the halls would be cleared."

[Skill Activated: Command Presence (Lv. 6)]

The man’s posture shifted. Confused. Uncertain. I could see it working. Almost.

Then his eyes locked with mine.

And widened.

"Wait a second—"

I moved fast.

My hand was at his throat before the words finished forming. The second guard reached for his weapon, but Alexis was faster. A short jab to the pressure point between collarbone and jaw dropped him before his fingers even brushed the trigger.

The first guard struggled. My grip tightened.

"Reynard Vale," he hissed. Not loud. But sharp.

I pressed him against the wall, leaned in close. "If you say that name again, it’ll be the last word you ever speak."

His eyes darted to the coat. The rank bars. Then back to me.

"You shouldn’t be here," he whispered. "They said you were going to be finished now that you were captured."

"A lot of people say a lot of things."

"It’s fine...It’s not like you stand a chance of escaping from here."

That gave me pause.

"Try me."

He laughed. Bitter. Frightened. "You think this is just a prison or some experimental facility? Just another blacksite? No. You’re standing on a vault, one of the most highly secured facilities in the world. And you set off the alarms the second you walked inside. Unless you kill everyone here, you’re not getting out."

I hesitated. Something in his tone cut deeper than it should have. I didn’t like it.

"We need to move," Alexis said from behind me. "Another patrol in two minutes."

I dropped the guard.

Unconscious. Not dead.

Sienna hoisted Camille again. Alexis took point. I brought up the rear, hand still clenched like I could throttle the tension out of the air.

A vault.

It kept repeating.

What the hell was down here?

We moved quickly now. Two turns. One more checkpoint—empty. A busted security turret hung from its ceiling bracket like someone had ripped the wires out. Not recently.

The hallway narrowed. Emergency lights replaced overheads. One flickered just enough to make your shadow stutter-step beside you. Like you weren’t walking alone.

"They’re just ahead," Alexis said, slowing.

A steel door. Numbered but unlit.

I reached out and keyed the panel.

Locked.

I glanced at Sienna. "Can you bypass?"

She was already working. Wires twisted. Sparks jumped. The lock blinked red, then yellow.

Then green.

The door hissed.

Inside—

Dark.

And then: "You made it."

Anthony’s voice. Low. Exhausted.

He stepped into view. Blood on his shirt. Still that damn Hawaiian mess of a pattern. But alive. Evelyn was behind him. Her eyes were blank. Cold.

And locked straight onto me.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe as I realized the mistake I just made.

Then her body twitched.

Then her hand.

Then everything.

"REYNARD!" she shrieked.

And launched forward.

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