Badass in Disguise Chapter 272

Jade's POV:

I stared at SPECTER, revulsion crawling up my spine.

"I don't like seeing your face wearing other people's features," I said, my voice cold and flat.

SPECTER's mouth twitched into what might have been amusement.

"Actually," he corrected, "they're wearing my features."

"Where's my person?" I asked, cutting straight to business. No point wasting time with this psychopath.

"In such a hurry?" SPECTER leaned back in his throne-like chair. "Don't you want to catch up first?"

I met his gaze without flinching. "Catch up? We have nothing to talk about."

His expression shifted to one of exaggerated disappointment. "I see..."

He turned his attention to a figure standing silently to his right. "Perhaps you want to talk to her?"

My eyes tracked to where he was looking. Shadow clone stood motionless.

"Just one?" I asked, my tone unimpressed.

SPECTER tilted his head. "Hmm?"

"At most eighty percent genetic match, plus the inherent flaws in cloning. This hardly seems like your ace card." I smiled coldly. "I expected at least a clone army—hundreds of Shadows, hundreds of Dusks. This setup makes you look rather... pathetic."

That hit a nerve. I could see it in the slight tightening around his eyes.

I suddenly snapped my fingers as if remembering something. "Oh, I'm sorry—I forgot that I burned your clone army in their incubation chambers before they could be 'born.'"

His jaw clenched ever so slightly.

"You must have been devastated," I added, twisting the knife deeper. "Losing all those children."

SPECTER recovered quickly, forcing a smile. "I was indeed upset, but as you can see, I still have one child left." He gazed at the Shadow clone with disturbing affection. "Whether Shadow herself or her clone, she's always been my favorite child."

The clone turned to him with empty eyes. "Father."

The word sent a chill through me, and I felt my face harden involuntarily.

"Good girl," SPECTER responded, his tone sickeningly paternal.

The display made my stomach turn. "The flaws are more extensive than I thought," I remarked dryly. No version of me—not even a clone—would ever call this monster "father."

SPECTER shrugged. "She has flaws, yes. But you're injured as well. That should level the playing field enough to make your confrontation entertaining."

He clapped his hands together sharply. "Since you're not interested in catching up, let's check on your friend. I quite enjoy watching others reunite."

At his signal, footsteps echoed through the hall. Two figures emerged from a side entrance—one being dragged, the other doing the dragging.

"I promised to treat him well," SPECTER said with mock regret. "I apologize for breaking my word, but he was so uncooperative."

My breath caught as I saw Zach being hauled forward. His condition was nearly as bad as Selene's had been. His face was bloody and bruised, and he could barely stand. The restraints on his wrists seemed unnecessary—he clearly had no strength to fight back.

My eyes shifted to the person holding him—a young man who couldn't be more than eighteen, though he looked younger. His boyish features and slight build made him appear harmless, but I knew better. This was Wraith, the organization's youngest assassin and one of its deadliest. Despite his almost autistic demeanor, he was a weapons prodigy, second only to Selene in combat skills.

Wraith released his grip, and Zach collapsed to the floor with a sickening thud. The impact seemed to jolt him to consciousness. He lifted his head with effort, blood smearing across the polished floor.

"Boss..." he murmured, his voice barely audible.

He struggled to turn his head, searching the room desperately. His gaze landed on the Shadow clone, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

"...Boss." His voice cracked with emotion. His eyes welled up, and he made a pitiful attempt to move toward her. "Boss..."

He tried to stand, but with his hands cuffed behind him, he could only use his forehead to push himself up from the floor.

He managed to rise slightly before falling back down with a pained grunt. Undeterred, he tried again immediately.

The scene was heartbreaking—Zach repeatedly struggling to reach the clone, who merely stood there, coldly watching his efforts.

"What a touching reunion," SPECTER remarked, looking genuinely moved. "It's almost bringing a tear to my eye."

He turned to me. "Your subordinate is certainly loyal. No wonder you keep risking your life for him."

Zach finally managed to get to his knees, swaying precariously. Before he could fully rise, Wraith stepped forward and kicked him back to the ground. He then tried to force something into Zach's mouth.

I tensed, wanting to intervene but knowing Wraith was too dangerous to approach recklessly. Zach clenched his jaw, refusing to open his mouth, but Wraith grabbed his jaw and forced the pill between his lips.

"What did you give him?" I demanded, my voice sharp with anger.

Wraith straightened up. "Something to keep him quiet."

"Don't worry," SPECTER assured me. "It's not poison."

His tone shifted. "However, I did place something else in his stomach."

He checked his watch casually. "You have ten minutes. If you can defeat her in that time, I'll give you the chance to remove it. If not..." He shrugged. "When the time expires, you'll watch him explode into a puddle of blood and flesh. At that point, even I won't be able to help you."

Cold fury washed through me. My fingers curled into fists at my sides, and I could feel my face contorting with the effort of containing my rage.

SPECTER turned to the clone with fatherly affection. "Go, my child. Kill her for your father. Kill her, and you'll be the only one—the unique one."

The clone stepped forward, accepting the command without question.

The clone struck first, darting toward me with frightening speed. I slapped my hand against the armrest of my chair, using it to propel myself upward. I delivered a precise kick toward her head, which she dodged effortlessly, as I knew she would.

We instantly engaged in close combat, our movements eerily synchronized. Every attack I launched, she anticipated. Every defense I mounted, she seemed to expect. It was like fighting against a mirror—we moved with identical timing and precision.

SPECTER watched with obvious pleasure.

Zach, however, was in agony. "Stop... please stop," he pleaded, his voice weak but desperate. He was watching the two people he cared about most trying to kill each other.

"Someone stop them," he begged to no one in particular. I caught glimpses of his tormented expression between exchanges of blows.

The clone and I each landed solid kicks on each other, sending us both staggering backward. Blood trickled from my mouth, and I saw the same on her. We immediately rushed back into combat.

"Kill me!" Zach shouted at Wraith, his voice breaking. "Just kill me!"

Wraith merely looked down at him, expression empty.

The clone and I had both drawn knives now. Our blades clashed with metallic shrieks, each parry and thrust perfectly matched. One wrong move would mean instant death.

"Five minutes left," SPECTER announced, sounding displeased.

At his reminder, I intensified my attacks, driving the clone back. SPECTER's expression brightened as he continued to watch our deadly dance.

Zach collapsed fully to the ground, his face ashen. Whether I killed the clone or the clone killed me, the outcome would be devastating for him.

"Two minutes," SPECTER called out.

Two minutes wouldn't be enough to extract whatever was in Zach's stomach. My movements became increasingly fierce and rapid. My knife moved so quickly it was nearly invisible, producing a constant metallic ringing as it collided with the clone's blade.

Having eighty percent of Shadow's genes might sound impressive, but it wasn't enough when facing the original. Despite my injuries, I could dominate this fight whenever I chose.

With one powerful kick, I sent the clone flying backward. In the same motion, I hurled my knife—not at the clone, but past her, directly toward SPECTER on his throne.

SPECTER didn't flinch or dodge.

Before my knife could reach him, Milo Murphy's hand shot out, snatching it from the air.