SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery-Chapter 331: The Truth We Hide

The smile that had crept across my face wasn’t one of malice or calculation—it was relief. Pure, simple relief that I finally had a way to cut through Chen’s accusations with facts that no one in this room could dispute.

"You want to know why I haven’t been profiting from my father’s experiments?" I said, my voice carrying the confidence of someone who held all the cards. "Because I was eight years old when my father left."

The statement hung in the air, and I could see Chen’s certainty waver slightly. But I wasn’t done.

"Hugo Vale abandoned his family when NovaCore shut down," I continued, standing straighter as the weight of old pain mixed with vindication. "I haven’t seen him since. I’m thirty-eight years old now. That’s thirty years of no contact, no communication, no secret father-son experimentation sessions."

I gestured around the room, meeting the eyes of world leaders who suddenly looked uncomfortable with their previous assumptions.

"I was a child when these experiments were being conducted. Far too young to profit from them, far too young to even understand what was happening. The only thing I inherited from Hugo Vale was his abandonment and the shame of his name."

President Chen’s expression had shifted from confident accusation to careful recalculation. "But you still could have—"

"Could have what?" I interrupted. "Could have somehow convinced my absent father to experiment on me from wherever he disappeared to? Could have developed these abilities through some kind of delayed genetic modification? Or maybe you think I’ve been running secret experiments on myself for the past thirty years?"

The skepticism in my voice was genuine. The absurdity of the accusations was becoming clear to everyone in the room.

"I only found out about the extent of my father’s work two years ago," I continued, my voice dropping to a more somber tone. "When I went back to my childhood home. Found his old research notes hidden in the basement. That’s when I learned what he’d really been doing at NovaCore."

I paused, letting the genuine pain of that discovery color my words.

"You want to know why I exposed his identity during my global broadcast? Because I wanted the world to see the truth. I spent 2 years before that running and indirectly fighting a bunch of you as you all saw the Masked Syndicate as a threat. But by then I had decided to pull the plug and reveal it all. I revealed the experiments that he developed and the harm they resulted in."

Samuel leaned forward, his expression more sympathetic now. "That must have been difficult, realizing your father was responsible for—"

"For creating the foundation of every human experimentation program that followed," I finished. "Yes, it was difficult. But it was also necessary. I couldn’t let my personal feelings about my father prevent me from exposing the truth."

President Valeska had been listening intently, her diplomatic mask firmly in place. But now she leaned forward, her voice carrying a note of challenge.

"That’s a very touching story," she said carefully. "But it doesn’t address the fundamental question. You clearly have abilities that no unexperimented human possesses. The ability to hold multiple jobs simultaneously is impossible under normal circumstances. Even if you weren’t experimented on by your father, you were experimented on by someone."

The words hit like a physical blow. I felt the confidence I’d been building start to crumble as the truth of her statement sank in. She was right—I did have abilities that shouldn’t exist. The System had given me a job title that allowed me to function in ways that defied normal human limitations.

"I... I haven’t been experimented on," I said, but even to my own ears, the words sounded weak.

"Pleased like we are any different." Samuel pressed. "Look around this room. Several of the people at this table have job title and/or artificial jobs that enhance their natural abilities."

I felt a sense of relief run down my spine. Samuel had my back and I believed that he was telling the truth. It wouldn’t be out of ordinary for these leaders to utilize the research that my father created to boost their own System.

"You’re suggesting that people at this table have been experimented on?" I asked, focusing my attention towards Valeska.

Her expression tightened almost imperceptibly, and I felt my Psychological Insight flare in response. She definitely had a job title—I was sure of it now. But instead of answering directly, she pressed forward.

"What I’m suggesting is that you’re being hypocritical," she said. "You’re condemning experiments that gave people enhanced System’s while clearly possessing such abilities yourself."

I felt cornered, desperate. The truth was impossible to explain—that I’d received my abilities from some mysterious System during the darkest moment of my life, when I’d been standing on the edge of a bridge contemplating whether to end it all. No one would believe that. It sounded exactly like the kind of lie someone would tell to cover up illegal experimentation.

"I don’t know how I got these abilities," I said finally, and the admission felt like defeat. "But I know I wasn’t experimented on. I would remember something like that."

"Would you?" Chen interjected, her information broker instincts clearly engaged. "Memory modification was one of the techniques developed during the NovaCore experiments. If you were subjected to procedures and then had your memories altered—"

"Stop," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "Just stop. Don’t even try to lie about something like that. I’ve talked to many NovaCore subjects and they all vividly remember the torture that was inflicted on them."

But even as I said it, doubt was creeping in. They were going to pressed on how I could be so sure? How could anyone be sure of their own memories when dealing with technology that could alter the human mind?

The room had gone quiet, and I could feel the weight of skeptical gazes. Even Samuel looked uncertain now, his earlier support tempered by legitimate questions about my origins.

MacLeod had been silent throughout this exchange, but I could see him watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Sympathy? Calculation? Something else entirely?

Then it hit me—the perfect way to prove my innocence. If I had been experimented on, it would have required governmental approval. And since I’d been in Canada for the past several years, since before my abilities manifested, there would be records.

"You want proof that I wasn’t experimented on?" I said, my confidence returning as the solution crystallized. "Then let’s get it."

I turned to face MacLeod directly, meeting his eyes with the certainty of someone who knew they were about to be vindicated.

"Prime Minister MacLeod," I said formally, "as the head of the Canadian government, you would have had to approve any human experimentation programs conducted within Canadian borders. Did you approve any experiments to be performed on me within the last two years?"

The question was perfect—direct, verifiable, and with MacLeod as my ally, certain to provide the clear denial I needed. I felt my Instinct flare suddenly, a sharp warning that made my head burn, but I pushed it aside. This was too important, too necessary for clearing my name.

MacLeod looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched on, and I felt the first stirrings of unease. Why wasn’t he answering immediately? Why wasn’t he giving me the emphatic denial I needed?

"Prime Minister?" I prompted, my voice carrying a note of confusion.

Behind me, I heard Evelyn shift in her chair, her enhanced senses probably picking up on subtle changes in the room’s atmosphere that I was missing. Anthony’s presence felt tense, alert.

MacLeod’s expression remained carefully neutral, but I could see something in his eyes—regret, perhaps, or resignation. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady but carried an undertone of something I couldn’t identify.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I did approve experiments to be performed on you."

The words hit me like a physical blow. The room seemed to tilt around me, and I felt the blood drain from my face. This wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be happening.

"What?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"I approved the procedures," MacLeod continued, his voice gaining strength. "The experiments were necessary for—"

"No," I said, my voice stronger now, fueled by shock and betrayal.

But even as I said it, I could feel the certainty crumbling. MacLeod had just betrayed me in front of everyone and worst of all I could see a smile forming in his face. Was this what Mark had warned me about?

Behind me, I heard Evelyn’s sharp intake of breath, her enhanced senses probably confirming what I was desperately trying to deny. Anthony’s presence felt shocked, confused.

MacLeod has announced to the public that he would support me and with this moment right now I was seeing the lies hidden behind that statement.

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