Chapter 121: "The SSG Roundtable!"

Chapter 121: The SSG Roundtable!

In a faraway land, deep within one of the heavily fortified SSG bases, General Trist sat in a dimly lit room, surrounded by his top subordinates. The atmosphere was tense, thick with anticipation and unspoken fear. The room, stark and utilitarian, was lined with monitors displaying streams of data, maps, and encrypted communications. At the front, a subordinate held a whiteboard marker in his hand, drawing urgent diagrams on the board, his expression a mix of worry and exhaustion.

"Sir," he began, his voice steady but burdened, "Rhemon has his sights set on our cybernetic program—the Deadly 30 Project initiated by Dr. Lucius Strake and his team. He wants total control." He took a moment to catch his breath, then added, "We were given a month to deliver… and today marks the end of that deadline."

General Trist's expression was unreadable, a mask of hardened resolve and buried frustration. He had exhausted every option at his disposal, even humbling himself to seek aid from a girl whose name was spoken in hushed, reverent tones within the highest circles of the SSG: Tessa.

Tessa was no ordinary ally. She was a legend, a force spoken of in near-mythical terms—a young alien who had once done the impossible by facing not one, but two fortified SSG bases. The first was led by the notorious Mr. Rudbick, and the second by the ruthless General Rwald Dune. Both men had proven insurmountable obstacles to countless others, yet Tessa had overcome them with a precision and might that left a lasting mark on the organization. Her victory had inspired whispered stories of her skill and valor, tales that wove through the ranks of soldiers, from new recruits to seasoned generals. She was, in many minds, the only one who could possibly help them now.

Yet, despite all her prowess, even Tessa's power had limits. Rhemon's influence was vast, his strength unimaginable, and his strategies terrifyingly intricate. Even with Tessa's support, Trist knew they were at a dangerous crossroads.

What options were left to them now? General Trist sat in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on him as he ran through scenario after scenario in his mind. He had witnessed firsthand the merciless efficiency of Rhemon's agents, even those of the third and fourth ranks. Each encounter had left a trail of bodies and broken lives, and none of Rhemon's most formidable agents—the dreaded first and second ranks—had even been deployed. The thought of facing those elite forces sent a chill down his spine. What would it be like if they finally did?

The third-level agents were known to possess devastating powers directly bestowed upon them by Rhemon himself. They were led by a figure as infamous for her beauty as for her lethality—Ashley Duve. She was a woman whose mere presence lured her targets to their doom. Known for her seductive charm and ruthless disposition, she had ended the lives of countless men who were drawn to her like moths to a flame. Her name whispered fear, and her kill count continued to climb, leaving a legacy of shattered lives in her wake.

Then there were the second-level agents, even more terrifying in their mystery and prowess. They were led by Ikehara, a man wrapped in shadows and secrets, wielding power as silently as death itself. Rumor had it that he could move through shadows, unseen and undetected, striking with lethal precision. Among Rhemon's followers, he was revered as "the Shadow of the Sun God," a title that hinted at his dark allegiance to Rhemon and his role in enforcing their twisted faith.

Once, Rhemon had sent Ikehara himself to seize control of this very base. But Ikehara, ever the strategist, had proposed a chilling compromise instead. In exchange for sparing the base, he demanded the Deadly 30 blueprints, a few prototype samples, and access to the skilled doctors working on the project. His offer had left them with a haunting choice—hand over technology that would be used to subjugate humanity, or resist and face utter annihilation.

General Trist's gaze turned cold as these thoughts rippled through the room, a silent, shared burden among everyone present. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air: Could they really sacrifice everything to keep such power out of Rhemon's grasp? Or would resistance only lead to a merciless end?

As the discussions carried on, General Trist finally spoke up, breaking through the tense silence that had settled over the room. His voice was a steady command, his gaze steely and unyielding. "What are your suggestions? What can we do…?"

An uneasy hush fell as his words echoed. No one responded immediately, casting furtive glances at each other, searching for any signs of resolve or clarity among their ranks. Whispers stirred around the table, quiet murmurs of uncertainty, and tentative nods passed between the officers. Then, a figure rose slowly from his seat.

"My General, if I may," said Agent Fally, his voice firm but cautious. "Why don't we try reaching out to Tessa again? I understand she said she couldn't help us, but I suspect it's because she still holds a grudge against us—the Secret Surveillance Group. However, if we approach her differently, show her our sincerity, perhaps she'll come around. I've even heard rumors…" He trailed off, as if gathering the right words to continue.

Before he could finish, another voice cut through the room, sharp and disdainful. Agent Stan slammed his hand down on the table, rattling the pens and notes scattered across its surface. His face was a mask of frustration and fury. "Why on earth would we stoop so low as to seek help from an alien?" he demanded, his voice thick with contempt. "The very idea disgusts me. When has the standard of the SSG fallen so low that we would turn to one of the very creatures we are sworn to hunt?"

Fally held Stan's glare for a moment but chose to ignore the outburst, determined to push his point forward. "I understand your frustration, Agent Stan," Fally continued evenly, refusing to let his tone waver. "But we are cornered here. Tessa may be an alien, yes, but she's proven herself time and again—she's single-handedly dismantled two of our bases, taken down operatives like Mr. Rudbick and General Rwald Dune, and emerged victorious. She is a legend for a reason. And more importantly, she has a personal vendetta against Rhemon's forces. If we present this as an opportunity for her to cripple him further, she might see it as her fight, not ours."

–Agent Fally cleared his throat, his voice steady yet somber. "I've also heard rumors of her heroism… how she saved a young girl named Nelly. That poor girl had been brutalized, left bleeding on the floor, and Tessa stepped in just in time. Stories like that one—countless cases where she's intervened against injustice—are flooding the internet. She's more than just a fighter; she's a protector. We need someone with that kind of courage on our side."

Another officer, younger but visibly worn by the ongoing war, spoke up, his voice quieter but clear. "We don't have many choices left. If we refuse to turn to her, then we're standing alone against Rhemon's forces. We all know what his second- and third-level agents are capable of. With Ashley Duve out there seducing and destroying, and Ikehara's silent executions, how much longer can we hold them off on our own?"

General Trist looked around the room, letting the words sink in, reading the mixture of hope and fear on the faces of his officers. It was true—Tessa was not their ally, not even close, but she might be their only option. They had seen what Rhemon's agents could do, and it was only a matter of time before he escalated his tactics. If the third-level agents had already left such devastation, what could they expect if Rhemon himself stepped into the fray?

Trist exhaled slowly, the weight of his decision palpable. "Agent Fally," he said finally, "draft a proposal for Tessa. Explain our position, make it clear what's at stake—not just for us, but for everyone under Rhemon's shadow. If there's even a chance she'll consider it, we can't afford to ignore that. And as for the rest of you," his gaze landed firmly on Agent Stan, "we must remember what we're fighting for: survival. If Tessa can help us achieve that, then we owe it to ourselves and our people to try."

The decision was made, but the room remained tense. They all knew the risks, the uncertainty that lay ahead. As Agent Fally set to work, Trist could only hope that Tessa's legendary strength and vendetta against Rhemon would be enough to sway her. For in the coming storm, they would need every ally they could find—even if it came from the very forces they had once sworn to destroy.