Demonic Po*nstar System Chapter 707: Illegal Statements

"A week ago..." Brittany began, then paused. Her forehead furrowed. "No. Further back than that."

She glanced at Trisha, who gave a slight nod.

"Eight days ago," Brittany continued, "a representative from New Dawn approached our guild leadership with a proposal to coordinate operations against Valhalla’s Sinners."

Inside the command room, three devices began to buzz simultaneously.

These weren't the normal priority alerts. They were direct, private calls—the kind that only signal that someone familiar is reaching out for a specific reason. Henrik looked down at the display, his expression tightening.

"New Dawn is calling..."

"Don’t answer," Maeve commanded without pulling her eyes from the screen. Her fists were tightly clenched and shook rhythmically.

The ringing persisted.

"We don’t possess the full details of the agreement," Brittany explained on the digital screen. "We weren't present when things were finalized. Regardless, the strategy visibly changed after that summit. The approach moved from merely competing against Valhalla’s Sinners to actively sabotaging them."

"A week back, our squad was summoned to a strategic briefing with the guild powers. We were told that rivaling Valhalla’s Sinners through standard content creation was failing. The specific instructions were to engage them directly to maximize friction and visibility." She paused. "To put it plainly: harass them. Initiate conflicts on stream. Provoke reactions that paint them in a poor light to generate clips that boost our performance metrics."

"We carried out those commands," Trisha added. "We antagonized them throughout the competition. We treated them like mortal foes because the guild made it clear our status depended on those outcomes."

Henrik’s device buzzed yet again. Then Gabriel’s. Finally, Maeve’s personal line began to ring—a number she hadn't heard active in weeks, strictly limited to a handful of contacts.

She didn't reach for it.

"Two days ago," Trisha stated, her tone hardening, "New Dawn ceased acting as side-observers and entered the field with us. Their rookie fighters tracked Valhalla’s Sinners into dangerous zones and stole their kills, using their top-tier scouts to monitor the group. They stalked them across deployment areas to intercept targets they had already engaged. It was a well-organized effort sanctioned by the leadership of both guilds."

Gabriel pulled off his glasses and dropped them on the table. Henrik stared at his trembling device as if it might strike him.

"They’re going to destroy us," Henrik muttered. "New Dawn will claim they never authorized this and leave us to take the fall alone."

"I said don’t answer!" Maeve hissed, just as Trisha began to weep.

"And our peer Stacy followed those same orders."

The name hit the air, and Brittany’s poise vanished. She covered her face, a guttural, raw sob escaping her—a sound of mourning that had been suppressed since the tragedy occurred.

Alexandra pulled her closer. Trisha’s gaze remained locked on the camera lens, eyes glistening.

"Stacy Renault was our sister-in-arms and our closest friend," Trisha said, her voice transformed. The precision returned, yet it came through gritted teeth, as though forced through layers of deep anguish. "She trained beside us every morning for three years. She was the earliest to rise. She made terrible coffee and drank it like a sacred ritual, often leaving a cup outside your door at five, whether you wanted it or not."

She halted, grinding her jaw.

"Stacy perished in that basin following the exact orders we followed. Fighting the very people we were told to fight. And the guild’s initial response following her death was a financial invoice. We were summoned to discuss cost allocation before her remains had even been processed by the Association’s medical team."

Brittany was sobbing openly now, hiding her face against Alexandra’s shoulder.

"She deserved better than us," Brittany choked out. She raised her head, eyes rimmed in red. "She deserved better than teammates who were unable to protect her. She belonged at home."

The video lingered on them: Brittany weeping, Trisha standing firm yet teary-eyed, the trio bound by shared trauma under the camera's gaze.

Trisha took a breath and steadied her nerves.

"We owe an apology. To Valhalla’s Sinners. To their fanbase. To everyone whose experience we damaged with our conduct during the competition. We were driven by greed and we were wrong, and Stacy paid the ultimate price for our choices."

"I’m sorry," Brittany whispered toward the lens. Her face was swollen, but she made no attempt to clean it.

"I’m sorry," Trisha said, her facade finally crumbling. Her shoulders slumped and the tears flowed freely. "We are so terribly sorry."

Their composure dissolved entirely. Brittany’s face twisted, and Trisha’s breath caught in her throat. They reached for one another, finding Alexandra’s hands waiting. Alexandra pulled them inward, cradling their faces and resting their heads against her. Brittany leaned into her left, Trisha into her right, and Alexandra held them with a tenderness that spoke of someone far beyond her years.

No one said a word. The camera captured the three women trembling together, the heavy silence conveying a message that words could only mar.

Then the screen went pitch black.

...

"Those harpies are using fake tears to spin the narrative!"

Henrik erupted from his seat. His chair scraped violently against the floor, and his face was the color of a man whose blood pressure had spiraled out of control.

"They sat alongside the country’s most famous survivor and wept so the public would link them! That’s all this is! They are fishing for sympathy, betting the naive viewers won't distinguish between a girl groomed and blackmailed as a child and two greedy wenches who signed a pact for quick cash!"

He jabbed toward the dark display. "They aren’t our victims! They are victims of their own incompetence! No one forced their hands! They signed the terms for the money and the fame, and now they’re crying because they face the consequences!"

Gabriel had left his glasses crooked on his nose, not having touched them for the duration of the clip. He finally removed them, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.

"They’ve lost their minds if they believe this is acceptable. If they think they can leak confidential details on a broadcast and walk away, they’re delusional. We will bury them under a mountain of lawsuits. Every firm in the territory will bear witness to what happens when you breach an Ashbound guild contract on live feed."

"Enough."

Maeve’s voice sliced through their vitriol. She stood by the table, hands flattened against the surface, leaning forward with bloodshot eyes and visible veins pulsating at her temple.

"This is vengeance," she declared. "Kaiden Grey’s vengeance."