SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery
Chapter 263: Homecoming and Hollow Rooms

Chapter 263: Homecoming and Hollow Rooms

The return was quiet.

The transport touched down just after midnight, skimming the edges of the capital before descending onto a private helipad reserved for A-Rank citizens. They didn’t lead us through any formalities. No cameras. No crowd. Just a silent escort and a familiar path.

Our apartment tower rose like a monolith through the fog, slate-black with silver edges, its highest windows catching the moonlight. We lived on the highest available floor. The penthouse suite for A-Ranks, though we could’ve upgraded by now. System-flagged, eligible. But none of us cared. Not anymore.

We just wanted to be home.

The door opened automatically, recognizing us. The air inside was cool, untouched. The hallway smelled faintly of eucalyptus and linen, like it had always waited for us. Alexis exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for days. Evelyn walked in last, her head slightly turned as if still listening for something that wasn’t there.

The place was exactly as we left it: two master bedrooms, three guest rooms, an open kitchen, couches arranged with obsessive symmetry. Camille immediately wandered into the closest bedroom, muttering something about melting into sheets. Alexis helped Evelyn find the other room, and Sienna paused in the hallway just long enough to look back at me.

"You should sleep too."

I nodded. But I didn’t move.

Instead, I walked to the main bathroom. Turned on the lights.

Stared.

The mirror didn’t lie. My face was caked in dried blood. Not all mine. Probably not even mostly mine. Hair matted. Eyes sunken. My shirt was still clinging to me like paper. I peeled it off slowly, then stepped into the shower.

The water ran red.

I stood under the spray, hands braced against the wall, waiting for the heat to do something. Soften me. Melt the weight. But it didn’t. I scrubbed my skin. Hard. Over and over. Chest. Arms. Neck. And still, for a terrifying moment—

It wouldn’t come off.

It felt like it was in me.

Not on me.

I don’t know how long I stood there.

Eventually, I stepped out. Towel wrapped. Shirt changed. Hair damp.

Anthony was sitting on the couch, feet kicked up like he owned the place.

"Boss," he said without looking at me. "Looking better! You looked like the antagonist of a horror movie."

I dropped onto the couch beside him. Didn’t answer.

"No? Not even a chuckle? Damn. Tough room."

I tilted my head back. Closed my eyes.

He grew quiet for a beat, then leaned forward. His tone shifted.

"You remember that broadcast you made right before boarding that plane? The one where you basically told the whole world, ’Hey, I have can have every job ever and also I was the entire Masked Syndicate’?"

I blinked. Slowly.

Right.

I had done that.

"Well," Anthony continued, "that thing’s still circulating. But here’s the kicker—while you were gone, the Prime Minister officially went public. Team Vale, full send. And guess what?"

I opened my eyes.

He grinned. "Public opinion’s actually swinging in your favor. Riots stopped. Mass gatherings dwindled. People are calling you a symbol now. A necessary chaos."

I didn’t respond.

"Come on, that was a good line. ’Necessary chaos?’ I even practiced the delivery."

Still nothing.

He leaned back. Grew quiet again.

"Listen. The reason those drones showed up on the island? Our drones? It’s because when you went dark, the PM put the full weight of the country behind you. Anyone who touches you now? It’s like declaring war on the whole damn continent."

That made me pause.

"You’re not just a rogue with a cool mask anymore, Boss. You’re a national asset."

I nodded once.

He stood, stretching. "One more thing. About the crash."

I looked at him.

"I’m assuming it was your Instinct skill that picked up the sabotaged plane, but it failed to catch that every other plane was rigged too. We got a hit on airport footage."

My breath caught.

"It was him. 3829. At the airport. He was in cahoots with the pilot. Used his title to mask the rest. That’s how your Instinct got duped."

I stared at the floor.

"He played us."

Anthony moved toward the door. "Don’t lose sleep over it. We’ve got guards now. Trained. Armed. And if anyone so much as breathes wrong near you, they’re done."

He paused in the doorway. His voice softened just a little.

"You’re safe now, Boss. Try to believe it."

He left.

The hallway was quiet.

I stepped into the bedroom.

Dim lighting. The curtains were drawn. The sound of a quiet fan spinning in the corner.

All four of them were asleep.

Sienna curled beneath the blanket, one hand near her head. Alexis had her glasses on the nightstand, arms folded across her chest. Evelyn lay farthest from me, still as stone, blindfold in place.

Camille was closest.

I lay down slowly.

The bed was warm.

I closed my eyes.

And opened them again.

The pale face.

Blood.

The shot.

Her body falling over his.

I sat up.

My breath hitched.

Closed my eyes again.

Another jolt.

Again.

And again.

It happened for what felt like hours upon hours of relentless torment.

Until exhaustion won.

I woke up at 10am.

Only Camille was still in bed.

Sienna was an early riser. Evelyn likely too. Alexis always made a point of starting her diagnostics early. But Camille?

She slept in.

Every time.

I watched her chest rise and fall. Her breathing was even. But something in her posture felt... practiced.

I shifted slightly.

Her foot twitched.

I smirked.

"Hold on...you’re awake."

She didn’t respond.

"You’re using your job title as an excuse to be lazy, aren’t you?"

A long beat.

Then, slowly, she peeked open one eye. "I almost got away with it."

I raised an eyebrow.

She stretched like a cat, arms overhead, groaning dramatically. "Waking up is hard when you peak every skill overnight."

"You didn’t peak anything lately. You already slept for the last time you used your job title."

"Psychological flair. Level 10. I convinced myself I was still asleep."

"That’s not how that works."

She rolled onto her side, grinning. "Don’t ruin this for me."

I sat up.

Ran a hand through my hair.

Somewhere, Sienna was probably prepping breakfast. Alexis was probably sterilizing things no one would touch. Evelyn was likely sitting alone, processing.

We were home.

Alive.

Together.

I stood.

Stretched.

Turned toward the door.

Camille’s voice followed me. "Rey?"

I looked back.

She smiled softly. "Everything’s okay now. Right?"

I hesitated.

Then nodded.

"Yeah. We’re home."

And I went to get breakfast.