Chapter 239: A Family Vacation [Edited]

The crystal glass in Councillor Larry’s hand caught the cool light of the high-rise office, the deep crimson wine swirling in gentle, rhythmic circles.

Across the massive wall display, Julie’s live feed was still looping the chaotic aftermath from the warehouse.

On the screen, ninety million viewers were watching the real Phantom collapse in a pool of his own blood while his duplicate vanished into a spatial rift. Below the video, the comment section had turned into a raging torrent of public apologies, fury directed at the council, and demands for an immediate federal inquiry.

Larry watched the numbers tick upward, entirely unbothered, taking a slow, appreciative sip from his glass.

Behind his desk, his secretary Xavier looked like a man standing on a sinking ship. The tablet in Xavier’s hands was vibrating non-stop with urgent alerts, his knuckles pale and slick with nervous sweat.

"Sir Larry," Xavier said, his voice trembling as he adjusted his glasses with a shaking finger.

"The broadcast has already reached the international networks. They’re showing both of them side by side now. The public knows the dockland murders weren’t committed by Phantom, and Chief Director Eric is convening an emergency tribunal as we speak. The Association’s legal division has begun drafting warrants with your name on them. Section Nine of the Federal Charter explicitly prohibits an executive councillor from authorizing an unsanctioned bounty of that scale without board approval. Sir, they’re going to come after you."

Larry chuckled, leaning back into his leather armchair and resting his boots casually on the polished mahogany desk.

"Xavier, breathe," Larry said smoothly, offering a careless wave of his wine glass. "You’re always so dramatic. Do you know how much I pay my legal defense team? Millions every quarter. They can keep a federal prosecutor occupied for years if necessary. Let Eric draft his warrants. Let the Council scream. A court order requires three layers of judicial review before anyone can even touch my office door."

"B-but the public backlash, sir!" Xavier pressed, turning the tablet around to show the burning effigies outside District 1’s regional office. "The stock value of our private defense holdings dropped eighteen percent in the last twenty minutes! The citizens are outside calling for your head! If the Association links Specimen B’s bio-signature back to our research facilities, no amount of lawyers will stop a full raid!"

"And what exactly will they find?" Larry asked, a relaxed, predatory glint settling into his eyes.

"The laboratory was scrubbed before Specimen B ever left it. The servers were wiped, the growth chamber was emptied, and every employee involved in the project disappeared into shell companies that don’t officially exist. Even if Eric storms through the doors tonight, he’ll find nothing but an expensive room full of equipment. Specimen B has no registration, no identity, no documented creation date. Legally, the man doesn’t exist. And if they can’t prove that I created something that doesn’t legally exist, all they have is suspicion."

He took another sip of wine, looking at the frozen frame of Nicholas lying unconscious on the warehouse floor.

"Besides, this was always an acceptable outcome. If Specimen B had killed him in that warehouse, even better—we would have stepped into his life and turned Phantom into a weapon. But his survival doesn’t hurt us. If anything, it gives us something more useful. The world has just welcomed Phantom back with open arms, and Specimen B is walking around with his face, his memories and his abilities. Nicholas will spend the next few days recovering in a hospital bed while our second Phantom moves freely through the world. Let Eric chase me through courtrooms if he wants. By the time he realizes what we’re actually doing, he’ll have far bigger problems than my arrest."

"It’s a shame we can’t have a proper comic-book villain yet," Larry said with a calm smile. "But I’m sure that’ll come eventually."

—-

The sharp, sterile smell of medical-grade antiseptic and ozone was the first thing that greeted Nicholas as his consciousness slowly surfaced.

He opened both eyes.

The ceiling above him was stark white composite, illuminated by soft recessed panels. He tried to sit up, but an immediate, furious voice shattered the silence of the room.

"Lie back down before I snap your other arm myself!"

Doctor Cho stood at the foot of the bed, his oversized glasses pushed up his nose, glaring at Nicholas with pure, unadulterated clinical spite. The lanky physician threw a clipboard onto the side table with a loud clatter, crossing his arms over his blood-stained lab coat.

"Do you have a personal vendetta against your own body?" Cho snapped, poking Nicholas’s freshly set shoulder with the blunt end of a diagnostic pen. "Three fractured ribs, severe internal hemorrhaging, shredded palmar ligaments, fighting with all those injuries! What kind of brain-dead stunt was that? You were clinically dead for forty-five seconds in the transport helicopter!"

Nicholas blinked, feeling the dull ache throughout his torso, though the agonizing white-hot fire from earlier was gone, replaced by the cool, synthetic numbness of Cho’s therapy.

He stared at the doctor with a flat, tired look.

’All this time,’ Nicholas thought sourly. ’Several months in the Association, three critical hospital visits, and this man has never once given me a single Charm Point. Not one. Not even a pity point.’

’Endless nagging, insults and invoices. He doesn’t respect heroes. He just sees us as broken plumbing that happens to pay exceptionally well.’

"Next time you decide to brawl with your own clone in an abandoned warehouse," Cho added coldly, adjusting his spectacles, "do it during standard clinic hours. Dragging me out at four in the morning incurs a three-hundred-percent overtime surcharge. Selena already authorized the billing."

"You’re very expensive," Nicholas rasped, his throat still dry.

"I am irreplaceable," Cho corrected with a dismissive sniff, turning toward the door. "If you get out of that bed before tomorrow morning, I will personally inject you with horse tranquilizers. Try not to bleed on the sheets; the hospital charges for laundry."

With that, the doctor marched out, letting the door slide shut behind him.

Nicholas let out a long, defeated breath against his pillow.

Before he could enjoy the quiet, the door flew open again with a loud bang.

"NICHOLAS!"

A small blur of limbs and tangled hair launched straight across the room, hitting the side of his mattress.

Katie buried her face directly into his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck with a grip so tight it threatened the newly healed ribs beneath his gown. She was sobbing violently, huge tears soaking straight through the hospital linen as she wailed into his shoulder.

"Big brother! Big brother!" Katie cried, her small body trembling with uncontrollable hiccups. "Katie thought you died! I saw the television, and the bad man looked just like you, and then you were bleeding on the floor! Don’t die! You promised we would go to the ocean! You promised you’d buy the braised chicken!"

Nicholas’s expression softened completely. He lifted his left arm, resting his calloused palm against the back of her head, gently stroking her hair the way he always did.

"I’m right here, Katie," Nicholas whispered softly.

"Big brother isn’t going anywhere. Look at me—I’m fine."

Behind Katie, Marina stood beside the bed with tears already running silently down her cheeks. She didn’t lecture him. She didn’t ask what happened or demand an explanation.

For several seconds, she simply stared at him as though she needed to convince herself he was actually breathing, actually awake, actually sitting in front of her. Then she stepped forward and wrapped both arms around Nicholas and Katie, pressing her forehead against his cheek as the tension she’d been carrying since the broadcast finally broke apart into quiet sobs.

"You idiot," Marina sniffled, her voice breaking into a soft, relieved sob. "You absolute idiot... you scared us to death."

"I had everything under control," Nicholas murmured, feeling the warmth of his sisters grounding him back into reality.

"You were on a stretcher on national television, Nicholas," Marina said, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater and letting out a shaky, wet laugh. "That is not ’under control’."

"But I’m here now," Nicholas said flatly.

Across the room, sitting on a pair of plastic chairs near the window, Selena and Julie watched the scene in silence.

Julie had her camera lowered in her lap, her eyes glistening with genuine, uncharacteristic tears as she sniffled into a tissue, for once completely forgetting to check her view counts.

Beside her, Selena had her arms crossed, a soft, rare smile resting on her lips as she watched the hitman getting smothered in hugs by two girls half his size.

Selena cleared her throat lightly, stepping toward the foot of the bed once Marina and Katie had finally loosened their grip.

"I’m glad to see you’re still in one piece, brat," Selena said, her tone returning to its familiar, composed professionalism.

"Supervisor," Nicholas acknowledged, gently patting Katie’s back as the little girl refused to leave his side. "What’s the situation outside?"

Selena pulled up a secure tablet, flicking through the association dispatch logs.

"Julie’s broadcast cleared your name completely," Selena explained. "The public knows about the duplicate. The outrage has completely flipped, and people are currently tearing down Councillor Larry’s corporate campaign banners across four districts."

Her expression turned serious.

"Eric took the vanguard an hour ago. He marched straight into the High Council chambers with an emergency tribunal order to place Larry under arrest for treason, suspected illegal cloning, and issuing unsanctioned bounties. The Association’s legal branch is filing a full criminal indictment with the federal judiciary as we speak."

"And the duplicate?" Nicholas asked, his dark blue eyes narrowing.

"Your copy is still out there," Selena said, her voice dropping.

"Vixen traced his spatial jump to the northern industrial fringe, but he went dark the moment he landed. He has your abilities, your combat habits, your memories, and your face. Until we find him, we’re dealing with someone who can impersonate you perfectly and fight at your full strength without any of your injuries slowing him down. He’s not just a threat, Nicholas. He’s a second Phantom with nothing holding him back."

She looked at Nicholas, the faintest smirk touching her lips.

"So rest up, Nicholas. Because the moment you walk out of this hospital... you still have a duplicate to hunt down."

Nicholas looked down at Katie sleeping peacefully against his chest, then back at Selena, his cold, professional focus sliding back into place.

"He can wait," Nicholas said quietly. "I have a family vacation to go on."