Demonic Po*nstar System Chapter 932: Statistically Significant

"I’m statistically significant," Rika informed the table.

"I panicked!" Eugene’s smooth criminal composure shattered on the spot. "Boss, she’s looking at me with that look! I know that look all too well! She’s about to reject me, help! Convince her I’m a nice guy!"

"..." Kaiden didn’t know what to say; he was doing his utmost not to die of cringe.

That was when Kira finally had enough.

"Okay. Enough." She stood. "Watch and learn."

She walked to Rika’s chair, propped one hip against the table next to her sister, and looked down at her with a calm, easy half-smile.

"Hey. You’re really cute today, Rika. That dress of yours compliments your hair perfectly." Said like a fact, not a question, not a compliment fishing for a response.

Rika looked up at her twin, and a small flush crept up her neck entirely against her will. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Say, a new Italian restaurant opened nearby and I’d like to try it with you," Kira smiled, pulling out her phone. "Can I get your number?"

"You HAVE my number. You’re my SISTER."

"Is that a yes?"

Rika’s blush deepened, and she smacked Kira’s arm, hard, which only made Kira grin wider. "You’re paying!"

"With pleasure," Kira grinned, victorious.

Eugene was on his knees again, but this time in awe. "She didn’t even try. She rizzed her baddie of a sister up with zero effort."

"Hey. Phrasing." Kira gasped, not approving of the lingo.

"She did try," Kaiden corrected, ignoring the girl. "She just didn’t act like her whole life depended on a yes. That’s the whole difference." He leaned back in his chair. "Dial it back, because no one likes a forced performance like yours. Be the guy who tears up hundred-dollar bills over his principles, not the guy doing a bad impression of me."

"And practice," he added. "A lot."

"You miss every shot you don’t take!" Calypso added, raising a chip.

Eugene nodded so hard his glasses fogged for the second time that afternoon, and this time they stayed fogged.

"YOU’RE THE GREATEST MAN TO HAVE EVER LIVED, BOSS!! I’LL NEVER FORGET THIS DEBT OF MINE!"

He bowed his head toward his new guild leader, gathered both halves of Luna’s hundred out of the dirt as keepsakes, and walked out of the tent like he’d just been handed a religion.

The tent watched him go in silence.

"Sheesh..." Luna whistled, lost for words.

"I didn’t know you were such a player!" Calypso laughed, banging Kira’s back in a friendly manner, a manner which saw the girl nearly faceplant on the table.

"T-thanks, but I’m not a player... I just watch too much romance and I know this hopeless gal’s type too well... And please spare me... I’m going to die."

"Oh. Sorry, got too invested in the plot," Calypso grinned, pulling her hand back.

Then her head tilted sideways. "Are you sure you two aren’t stroking the kitties together?"

"Calypso..." Both of them growled in perfect sync, zero humor.

"Suspicious..." Calypso muttered, eyes scrutinizing.

...

The trio’s second meeting of the day was Warner Solutions, and Warner Solutions sent Meredith Cole.

Chief Operating Officer, iron-gray bob, a handshake she offered each of the three women in turn without a gram of ceremony. There was no pitch deck in her conference room at all. There was gear, laid out along the long table like a market stall: a vanguard’s cuirass sectioned open to show its lattice, gauntlets, field kits, a spool of the cable their rappel harnesses ran on.

"We messaged your inbox and presumably drowned in it," Cole said. "So today we’d rather show than talk. Warner wants to outfit your guild. All of it. At cost."

"You’re hoping we wear your brand on camera," Aria said. "The three of us, the Guild Leader, the inner circle. Warner armor on Eclipse’s faces."

Cole didn’t flinch. "Visibility is part of the value, yes."

"Then I should be honest with you, Miss Cole. Our guild’s core members will likely never wear Warner armor. The Association is providing for us directly, and our enchanter has her own specifications. Your equipment would outfit our combatants who don’t have their own gear, our support staff, our rank and file. Hundreds of strong and promising people, but not the faces I think you’d want on a poster."

The disappointment crossed Cole’s face cleanly, because she didn’t hide behind composure when a deal shifted. She looked at the cuirass she’d sectioned open by hand for this meeting and nodded once.

"That’s a smaller billboard than I pitched to my board."

"It is," Nyx agreed. "So where’s your margin on outfitting hundreds of recruits at cost, Miss Cole?"

Cole laid one hand flat on the sectioned cuirass. "In the wreckage. There is no testing rig on this planet that can reproduce what your people will do to our equipment. Send us the broken gear with ten minutes of notes attached, and you’ll save our lab a research decade. That data is worth more than any billboard."

Nyx’s smile widened by a tooth. Someone had finally opened with the truth instead of a slideshow.

The terms assembled themselves within the hour. Equipment and consumables at cost, an operational sponsorship on top, Warner’s name as official equipment partner with visibility on Eclipse dungeon streams - Not Valhalla’s Sinners streams - and every broken piece of gear flowing back to their lab with field notes.

Aria, who had once again gone a full meeting unprovoked, tilted her head at the departing executive.

"You haven’t complimented us once, Miss Cole."

"We all know you’re strong, young, good-looking, and everything else that makes powerful suits jealous or scared. There’s no reason to parrot it."

"Wonderful." Aria’s smile was warm and entirely genuine.

The second signature went down before lunch.

...

The third callback was Granger Heavy Industries, and Granger sent a wife.

Eleanor Granger arrived with power of attorney, a single folder, and a husband attending by video link from a room down the hall, on mute and camera turned off. "He watched your exam broadcast," she explained pleasantly, squaring her folder, "and said, and I quote, ’the silver-haired one would end me in four minutes.’ We agreed the company was safer this way."

"Wise~" Nyx purred. "Knowing one’s limits is a strength in itself."

"He’ll be thrilled you think so." The wife wasn’t as amused as Nyx, speaking with utmost dryness.

Walter unmuted to object. Eleanor muted him again without turning around.

Eleanor opened her folder, and it held none of the usual theater either. No material schedules, no project renderings, no services brochure. There was a single sheet with a number on it.

"You’re hiring hundreds of people," she said. "Many of them are contracted to other guilds, which means buyouts. You’re building a compound, staffing a headquarters, and running operations that scale faster than your revenue. Every other firm in this city is going to walk in here and try to sell you something." She tapped the number. "We’d rather just give you what you actually need."

A straight cash sponsorship. Granger’s name as Eclipse’s official title sponsor, visibility on broadcasts and streams, and in return, a quarterly sum large enough to make Nyx sit up straighter in her chair.

"And the terms?" Nyx asked, because a number that size always had teeth somewhere.

"Three-year exclusive in our category. Logo placement on Eclipse stream overlays, first right of offer on any future construction Eclipse commissions, and a joint press event when the compound opens." Eleanor folded her hands. "That’s it. No creative approval, no likeness rights, no say in how you run your guild. We’re not buying influence, we’re buying the line on our pitch decks that says ’Official Partner of Eclipse.’"

"A sensible offer," Bastet noted from the window seat, to the room in general, and it was understood by all present that the meeting had been blessed.

Eleanor’s pen went down at two, the third signature of the day.

The trio was back in the car by three, the city sliding past the tinted glass.

"All three successful meetings were led by women..." Aria mused, watching the towers go by.

"The species adapts," Bastet agreed, tail curling over her lap.

Nyx closed the laptop with deep satisfaction. "Somewhere in this city, a consulting firm is charging seven figures for a slide that says ’send a woman.’"

Just like that, the fearmongering trio was done for now, three promising sponsors secured. It was time to return to their lover’s arms and present the fruits of their effort.