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Chapter Thirty-Five: What Odile Saw
Date de publication:
2026-11-10 16:43:12
Dernier chapitre
REBORN WITH A SYSTEM: Why does my target wants me. Chapter Thirty-Six: The Man in the White Suit
Seven people had told Asher Costa that morning that he looked tired. That was a problem, because his entire career depended on looking like a man who had just woken up from eleven perfect hours of sleep.“You look tired,” said Dessa, for the eighth time, and held up the concealer like a weapon.“I’m not tired. I’m thoughtful.”“You’re gray.”“It’s the lighting.”“We’re outside.”He let her dab. He was sitting on an apple box on the roof of the Imperial Plaza, in a cream suit worth more than most cars, while a crew of twenty argued about a wind machine. The Costa Group’s autumn campaign was due on Friday. Somewhere below, a city of six million went about its Wednesday as if nothing was wrong, and Asher, who had been smiling at cameras since he was seventeen, found he was having trouble remembering how his own mouth worked.Dessa was nineteen, small and round-faced, with two pencils stuck in her hair and the fearless honesty of the very young. She had been his assistant for eight months
REBORN WITH A SYSTEM: Why does my target wants me. Chapter Thirty-Five: What Odile Saw
Luke’s at three in the morning smelled like floor cleaner and burnt coffee. Madam Tan was sitting in a plastic chair in the corridor in her fur coat and carpet slippers, with her handbag on her lap and her back absolutely straight, looking like someone waiting to be called into a very important meeting that she planned to win.She stood up when she saw Eliza. She looked at Xavier, at Han behind him, at the paramedic carrying Ames past on a trolley under a gray blanket.“So,” she said. “You brought the Blackwoods.”“Just one.”“I count several.”“One,” said Xavier, “and a very large bodyguard.”“Hm.” She sniffed, and the sniff said that in thirty years she had seen worse company. “She’s awake. Don’t let her sit up. She’ll try.”Odile was sitting up.She was propped against three pillows in a narrow bed, in a hospital gown that didn’t fit across the shoulders, with a bandage round her head like a turban and a lump on the side of her skull the size of an egg. One eye was swollen almost
REBORN WITH A SYSTEM: Why does my target wants me. Chapter Thirty-Four: The Salt Works
Han had put the watering can down on the kitchen table and was looking at it like it owed him money.“Thirty years,” he said again. “I never saw him put it down. He took it to the dentist.”“Did he have family?” said Eliza.“No. A daughter, once. She’s dead. Or she left.” Han shook his head. “He didn’t say. He just did the roses.”They were standing in the gardener’s room over the old stable, all four of them, Xavier, Han, Eliza and a man called Teague who was one of Han’s and had a face like a closed gate. It was very small. A narrow bed made square, a shelf of seed packets, a camp stove, a calendar from a feed company. Nothing was out of place. That was what bothered her. It looked like a room that had been tidied by somebody who knew they weren’t coming back.“He packed,” she said.“What?”“Look at the hooks.” She pointed. There were three by the door, and only two had anything on them. “Coat’s gone. Hat’s gone. He left the can because he wanted somebody to notice.”“Or because he
REBORN WITH A SYSTEM: Why does my target wants me. Chapter Thirty-Three: Inspector Dace
Dace didn’t look like a policeman. He looked like a man who’d sat on a lot of trains.He was somewhere in his fifties, tall and stooped, in a cheap beige raincoat with one button missing and a hat he took off the second he came through the door, as though he was afraid of breaking it. He had a wet cough. He carried a worn leather folder under one arm. When Pell, in the hall, said “May I take your coat, sir?” he said, “Oh, would you? I’d be so grateful,” and then looked actually grateful, which was strange.“Inspector,” said Xavier.“Mr. Blackwood. Forgive the hour.” He held out his hand and Xavier shook it, once. “I wonder if I might have a cup of tea. I’ve been in a car since four.”“Pell.”“Already on its way, sir.”They sat in the small drawing room, the one with the green sofa nobody sat on. Xavier took the armchair by the fire, which put him between the door and Eliza. She noticed. She decided not to say anything about it. Dace sat on the edge of the sofa with the folder on his k
REBORN WITH A SYSTEM: Why does my target wants me. Chapter Thirty-Two: The Splint
The tea had gone through the padding. By evening the whole thing smelled like a wet dog that had been left in a cupboard, and the skin underneath had turned a dull angry red.Eliza noticed it in the car. She didn’t say anything. She just sat with her arm tucked against her ribs and watched the lights go by, and told herself it was fine, people lived with worse. Xavier didn’t say anything either. He looked at her wrist twice, quick, from the side, the way you check a pot.At half past nine Pell knocked on her door with a white box and a face like a funeral director.“Mr. Blackwood has asked me to bring this. He says it isn’t optional.”“What is it?”“Dry padding. A new bandage. A pair of scissors.” Pell cleared his throat. “He will be in the glass room. He says the light is better.”“Does he know I can do it myself?”“Miss Sinclair,” said Pell, with real tenderness, “you have one hand.”The glass room at night was all dark ferns and thin moon, with one lamp lit on the low table and Xav
REBORN WITH A SYSTEM: Why does my target wants me. Chapter Thirty-One: Table Fourteen
Lexi’s window was shut by the time Eliza looked up again. Just a curtain moving, like nobody had been there.She stood with one foot in the car and her hand on the door until Han coughed.“Miss Sinclair?”“Forgot my scarf.”“You’re wearing it.”“Then something else.” She got in.Rex had been doing laps around the dashboard since the window closed. She could tell because he kept passing through the same spot. “We could stop her,” he said. “It’d take five minutes. You grab the phone, I make a fuss…”“Nobody can see you.”“I’d make a fuss on the inside.”“No. Let her.” A lamp post went by, then another one. “Leonard thinks he’s getting a secret off Lexi. So I’ll give him one.”“A fake?”“A good one.”She spent twenty minutes that evening on a note, and it was harder than it sounded. Too neat and it looked planted. Too messy and it looked like a child wrote it. In the end she tore it in half and dropped it in her wastebasket at the Sinclair house, where she’d gone to pick up scripts, and
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