Demonic Po*nstar System Chapter 711: Cold Space Babe

A short while ago...

A heavy silence hung over the connection.

"I am Nyx Cosmos."

Brittany’s grip tightened around her phone. Beside her, Trisha went rigid, her gaze fixed on the device as if hoping the name would magically shift into something less infuriating.

"And I happen to have an offer for you," the voice continued. It was perfectly steady and unhurried— the tone of someone relaxing while the listener was spiraling into chaos.

Brittany’s jaw clenched before she spat out her response.

"You have unbelievable nerve."

"Yes, I suppose I do."

"You murdered our friend," the rage flared up instantly, feeling oddly more grounding than anything she’d felt in ages. "You hurled a boulder at our squad; Stacy went down, and when the Colossus trampled her, she was pulverized. Her remains weren't even recognizable when they recovered them. Are you aware of that?"

The line remained silent. The woman on the other side didn't rush to fill the void with the empty platitudes strangers offer when they haven't caused the grief.

"I am well aware," Nyx replied.

"Then why in the hell are you calling us?" Trisha interjected, her voice dangerously thin and controlled, vibrating with the kind of intense fury held back because it was simply too immense to express. "Are you here to gloat? To twist the knife while we rot here?"

"Why else would I call? I have a business proposal for you."

Brittany let out a jagged, bitter laugh. "A business proposal. A deal from the person who put Stacy in the ground. Go screw yourself. And tell your psycho boyfriend who masterminded the whole disaster to choke on his own filth while you're at it. You killed our best friend, and you want to pitch us a deal? What is wrong with you?"

"Are you quite finished?"

"No, I am not finished! You actually think we’ll sit here and listen to the bitch who crushed our teammate into paste and then went home with a smile? You make me want to vomit."

Trisha snatched the phone from Brittany’s grip. "If this is some sick game, you better stop! I’ve reached my limit with-"

"There’s no love lost between us," Nyx interrupted. Her tone remained identical. It possessed the same measured calm, as if two A-tier fighters threatening her was merely a minor inconvenience she’d already calculated for. "Your man insulted mine, and you two sat there grinning like brainless sluts behind him. Do you truly believe I care about your opinion? Even if that was just a performance, I don't give a damn about either of you."

The women's eyes widened in shock. This was not the Nyx they expected—the one famously branded as the quiet girl in the background who only offered a few cheeky remarks.

Ignoring their internal reactions, Nyx continued. "You spent the last week harassing us both in the field and on camera. We aren't children in a sandbox. You don't get to bully us and then run to your caretakers when you get hit back. We are awakened warriors on a front filled with monsters; you trying to stall our growth isn't just taking our toy away. It's holding a gun to our heads and keeping us hostage until the monsters or our enemies tear us apart."

Brittany’s mouth hung open, but no sound escaped.

"So, no," Nyx pressed on. "I have no intention of apologizing. I don't like either of you. I feel no sympathy for your current situation. In my eyes, you’ve earned your fate. You are greedy women who chased a quick paycheck and debased yourselves despite having brilliant futures, and now you’re paying the price. As far as I’m concerned, you have nothing in common with me or Alexandra. We were kids caught in our parents' poor choices. You are adults, loose women who traded your integrity for fame."

A suffocating silence descended on the balcony.

Trisha’s knuckles turned white around the phone. Brittany stared at the device as if it had venomously bitten her, her face reflecting a cocktail of rage, disbelief, and the stinging reality of hearing the truth from someone who had killed their friend—and somehow made them feel degraded on top of it all.

"Now," Nyx said, her voice shifting to a slightly brisker tone. "Are you going to keep whining at me, or are we going to discuss business? I crawled out of bed when the news hit just so I wouldn't wake them up. I would much rather be snuggled up with my psychotic boyfriend than speaking to you two."

Trisha was the first to regain her composure. Her voice sounded cold and brittle. "What is the offer?"

"Legal protection, housing, and operational support. Runewoven’s legal team will handle your contract dispute. You keep fighting, you keep earning, but you do it under Kaiden’s banner rather than Maeve’s. You leave Ashbound tonight and you never look back."

Brittany scrubbed her face with the heel of her hand. "And what do you want in exchange?"

"Your cooperation. Professionalism. Respect."

"Respect?" Brittany’s voice cracked. "You just insulted us. You said we deserved our misery. And now you demand respect?"

"I demand respect for the man who is about to salvage your careers and your freedom. Yes." Nyx’s voice sharpened, and this precision was more chilling than her previous insults. "I don't care how you feel about me. You can despise me until the day you die. But if you take this deal, you will treat Kaiden Grey as your benefactor. You will offer him and his team courtesy, humility, and gratitude. You will not raise your voices. You will not show hostility. You will act as though the man who threw you this lifeline is a saint."

"And if we refuse?" Trisha countered.

"Then I will take care of you myself."

Brittany gasped. "You? You think you can take us? We are A-tier fighters! You are just a support player who hides behind everyone else. What exactly are you going to-"

"You know exactly where you stand," Nyx said, the calm returning so swiftly it was as if the threat had never been uttered. "You know who reached out before me. You know how many more will call once news spreads. And you know that by tomorrow, the only people on this earth willing to offer you a way out are on this line."

A breeze swept across the balcony. Neither spoke.

"I need your final answer by sunrise," Nyx added. "You have my number now."

The line went dead.

Nyx leaned her back against the railing, turning her gaze toward the moon.

It was a stunning night. The moon was full, bright, and close, its craters visible along the rim, casting a strange silver glow over the mountains. Nyx tilted her head, observing it like something beautiful that had no relation to her life.

’No wonder Aria got moon powers,’ she mused. ’The supermodel girl gets the most aesthetic element. How typical.’

The distribution of mana was deeply unfair, she realized. Nyx received space powers—incredibly potent, yes, but visually invisible, perfect for remaining unseen—whereas Aria was gifted the ability to glow under the moonlight like a marble-carved goddess.

She smiled at the empty air and waited.

...

Brittany was hyperventilating.

"We can’t do it," she said, her voice trembling. "We cannot work for them. We can’t look at that woman every day knowing she killed Stacy. I can't bear it, Trisha. I truly can't."

Trisha sat deathly still, her hands lying flat on her thighs, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Trisha."

"I am thinking."

"There is nothing left to think about! She literally called us loose women and said we deserved the tragedy that befell us! She threatened to wipe us out like pests! How can you even consider this?"

"Because she is correct."

Brittany fell silent.

Trisha opened her eyes. They were bloodshot, wet, and burning with fury, but they looked perfectly clear.

"She is right that we have no other options. She is right that the calls will keep flooding in. She is right that by tomorrow, the only people willing to help are the ones who just called." Her jaw tightened. "I don't have to enjoy her presence. I don't have to grant her forgiveness. I simply need to survive, and right now, she is the only one handing out a lifeline."

"But at what cost?"