Chapter 22: The State-Sanctioned Snare

【Seda PoV】

The government office smelled like sterile nothing.

No windows, no natural light, just cold fluorescent tubes humming overhead. Soundproofing lined every wall, thick panels that swallowed noise completely. I sat alone in the darkness, my tablet’s glow the only light source. The screen displayed live security footage from the school, cameras I’d personally installed in every hallway, every classroom, every corner where my prey might wander.

Alfred’s classroom sat empty now, final period just ended. Students filtered out in predictable patterns, heading toward clubs or home or whatever mundane activities filled their unremarkable lives. None of them mattered. Only one target held my attention.

I tapped the screen, pulling up a separate file. Records database, school administration access, the kind of clearance that came with my actual job title. A girl’s photo stared back at me, some random library assistant Alfred had pointed his phone at during lunch. TARGET INCOMPATIBLE had blocked his pathetic attempt, but the intent was clear enough.

He’d tried to grind points off someone who wasn’t us.

My finger hovered over the DELETE function. One tap and she’d vanish from school records entirely. Transferred, relocated, erased from his world like she’d never existed. The Beast Tamer division didn’t mess around with territorial violations. Prey that wandered toward other hunters got removed, simple as that.

I pressed DELETE.

The screen flashed green. RELOCATION APPROVED – SUBJECT WILL BE TRANSFERRED TO SISTER SCHOOL EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY. Clean, efficient, permanent. By tomorrow morning she’d be attending classes three districts away, confused about the sudden change but unable to question official government orders.

Elizabeth would call this excessive. She’d probably lecture me about proportional responses and maintaining cover. Too soft, always too soft. Her “Debt System” was elegant, sure, but way too slow. Negative five CP meant nothing if he could still look at other girls, still imagine scenarios that didn’t include us.

Total monopoly required total control.

The tablet switched to another camera feed. Third floor hallway, currently empty, waiting. Room 3-C sat at the far end, door closed, lights off. My preparation zone, my arena, my carefully constructed trap.

I stood up, grabbed my blazer from the chair, and headed for the door. The office sat in the school’s basement level, a space that didn’t officially exist on any floor plans. Government facilities loved their secret rooms, their hidden surveillance posts, their plausible deniability.

The hallway outside stretched dark and abandoned. My footsteps echoed against concrete as I made my way toward the stairs. No students down here, no teachers, no witnesses. Perfect operational security.

I climbed three flights in silence, each step bringing me closer to showtime. My reflection caught in a window as I passed, and for just a moment, I let the mask slip.

My left eye glowed that off-color shade, the one that marked me as something other than human. Not quite purple, not quite silver, just wrong enough to trigger instinctive fear in anyone who noticed. The air around me dropped several degrees, cold enough that my breath misted despite the building’s heating system.

The window pane cracked. Thin fracture lines spread from where my reflection stared back, frost creeping along the edges.

I blinked, forcing the glow away, letting my expression smooth back into normal human ranges. Control was everything in this line of work. Slip too far and the prey scattered. Maintain the illusion and they walked right into your hands.

The third floor hallway opened before me, empty and waiting. Afternoon sunlight slanted through windows, painting everything gold. Peaceful, normal, completely at odds with what was about to happen.

Room 3-C’s door stood fifteen feet away.

I approached slowly, deliberately, already running through the persona I’d need. The hypnotized doll, blank-eyed and responsive, perfectly obedient to whatever commands he thought he was giving. Elizabeth’s app would handle the technical side, feeding him false confirmations and fabricated responses. My job was selling the performance, making him believe his pathetic hypnosis actually worked.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The study room was exactly as I’d left it this morning. Small, soundproofed, private. Two desks pushed together in the center, chairs on opposite sides. Elizabeth’s laptop sat hidden in the storage cabinet, running background processes, ready to intercept every command Alfred sent through that fake app.

I moved to the window, placing my palm against the glass. Cold radiated outward from my touch, temperature dropping fast. The pane fogged immediately, then frost patterns began spreading in delicate crystalline branches. Pretty, in a dangerous sort of way.

The glass cracked. Small fracture, barely visible, running from corner to corner. Not enough to shatter, just enough to show what I was capable of. Just enough to mark this room as mine.

My tablet buzzed. Notification from Elizabeth’s monitoring system.

TARGET ACQUIRED – SUBJECT HAS ENTERED THIRD FLOOR CORRIDOR – ETA 90 SECONDS.

Ninety seconds. Time to get into character.

I sat in one of the chairs, arranging myself carefully. Posture relaxed but attentive, hands folded on the desk, expression neutral. The hardest part was always the eyes. Needed to look vacant without looking dead, responsive without showing actual awareness.

I practiced in the blank laptop screen’s reflection. Let my gaze go distant, unfocused, like someone staring at something only they could see. Shoulders dropped slightly, breathing slowed to barely visible. The hypnotized doll, waiting for her master’s voice.

The persona settled over me like a second skin, familiar from dozens of previous operations. Beast Tamers spent years training for deep cover work, learning to suppress every tell, every micro-expression that might give away true intentions. This was honestly pretty tame compared to some assignments.

At least Alfred was attractive. Made the whole possessive obsession angle way easier to sell.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Mechanical, steady, the robo-walk Elizabeth had coded into the app. She really did think of everything, forcing him forward when his natural cowardice would’ve sent him running. Smart girl, even if her methods took forever.

The doorknob turned slowly.

I let my expression go completely blank, eyes staring at nothing, body still as a statue. Every muscle locked into position, waiting for the cue to activate.

The door swung open.

Alfred stood silhouetted in the doorway, backlit by hallway sunlight. His phone glowed red in his hand, that debt counter probably still blaring warnings. He looked terrified, which was honestly perfect. Fear made prey predictable, made them desperate, made them do exactly what you wanted while thinking it was their own idea.

His eyes found me immediately. I watched him through my peripheral vision, tracking every micro-movement without directly looking. His breath caught, shoulders tensing. The phone’s glow intensified as he presumably checked something on the app.

I stayed frozen, waiting. The hypnotized doll didn’t move until commanded, didn’t speak until prompted, existed only as an extension of her master’s will.

Total obedience, just like the mission description promised.

Alfred took a hesitant step forward, then another. The door clicked shut behind him, locking mechanism engaging automatically. Elizabeth’s doing, obviously. Room 3-C was now a sealed environment, soundproofed and isolated, the perfect testing chamber.

He moved closer, phone raised like a weapon or a shield. The screen’s red glow painted his face in harsh shadows. Behind that fear I could see something else brewing, that desperate confidence he tried to fake, that master pervert persona he hid behind.

This would be fun. Watching him think he was finally in control, finally living up to his own hype, completely unaware that every command looped through our filters first. Every success we allowed him, every small victory we handed him, all of it designed to drag him deeper into our trap.

The debt was just the beginning. Five measly CP meant nothing compared to what we’d extract as payment. He’d tried to grind points off other girls, tried to expand his target pool beyond us. That required correction, required punishment, required a very clear demonstration of who actually owned him.

My left eye wanted to glow again, that possessive territorial instinct rising hot and sharp. I forced it down, maintained the mask, kept my breathing even and shallow.

Alfred stopped three feet away, still hesitating. His thumb moved across the phone screen, probably pulling up whatever command interface Elizabeth had designed. The app would tell him everything was working perfectly, would show him obedience meters and control percentages and whatever other fake metrics made him feel powerful.

Meanwhile, every input he gave fed directly to Elizabeth’s monitoring station. Every perverted thought, every desperate command, every moment of false confidence—recorded, analyzed, and used against him.

The temperature in the room dropped another few degrees. Couldn’t help it, anticipation making my control slip slightly. The walls seemed to close in, shadows deepening despite the afternoon light still filtering through cracked windows.

Alfred finally opened his mouth to speak, whatever command he’d prepared probably ridiculous and transparent. I waited with perfect stillness, blank eyes staring through him, the hypnotized doll ready to perform exactly as scripted.

Let the evaluation begin.