Chapter 253: The Naked President.
"There will never be a community where all people are equal."
Kim’s voice rolled across the compound as we forced our way forward, the open doors of the house now visible just ahead.
"There will never be a world where every person is the same. What makes us superior inside these walls is not our wealth. It is not our abilities." He held the entire crowd in perfect silence, hundreds of naked bodies standing motionless under the blazing sun. Sweat trickled down bare chests and stomachs. "It is the existence of Strays. It is the existence of burnouts. It is the hope that all of us carry—that we might climb. It is the culture of these walls, built long before any of us were born. No man has the right to take that from us."
The compound erupted.
"We should leave," I shouted to Melissa.
She carved a path ahead of me, her voice carrying an edge that made people shift aside. Her telepathy was doing quiet work on anyone in range, but the press was too thick. The doors were still several steps away, blocked by a wall of warm, sweating bodies.
"This is the opposition," I said into her ear, our bare skin sliding together as we squeezed through. "She’s not neutral. She isn’t someone we convince. She’s already chosen a side and she’s building a platform on it."
"Let’s try anyway."
We pushed through the final layer of bodies and reached the entrance.
Two sleek robots stood guard. Between them waited Professor Bagins.
The last time I’d seen him was at Hogsby, in a corridor, mid-scheme to take credit for Annabelle’s level jump.
The crowd behind us fell quiet again as Kim resumed speaking.
"I know you," Bagins said, his eyes locking onto me, taking in my naked form without shame.
"We’re here to see Mrs. Rivers," Melissa said.
"Okay." Bagins turned to her slowly, letting his gaze travel openly over her bare breasts and the rest of her body. "Nice tits."
"Thank you." Melissa held his stare. "Hairy dick."
Bagins forced a smile that clearly cost him.
"Is the president expecting you?"
President, I noted.
"Yes."
"Name?"
"Melissa Veyron." She had to repeat it over the noise.
"Melissa Veyron is expected," the robot on the right announced in a calm, synthetic voice.
Bagins stepped aside and led us inside.
The interior walls were exactly as I remembered—covered floor-to-ceiling with photographs of Mrs. Rivers, every single one of her naked, arranged with the same bold confidence that defined the entire mansion. He guided us to the same plush sofas where Becky and I had sat days earlier.
The moment the heavy doors closed behind us, the roar of the crowd vanished completely. Not muffled—erased. Whatever material the house was built from, it sealed the outside world away.
"Be patient," Bagins said. "The president is on her way."
"Okay," Melissa said, settling onto the sofa and crossing one long leg over the other. The motion drew the eye naturally to the smooth line of her thigh and the curve of her hip.
I took the same seat I’d occupied days ago with Becky, deliberately leaving space between us.
Bagins remained standing, completely at ease. He moved around the room like a man in a tailored suit rather than one wearing nothing at all. Whatever this place had done to him, it had stripped away every trace of self-consciousness.
"You’re not comfortable in your own skin," he said, looking down at Melissa.
"I’m perfectly comfortable, thank you." Her hands rested lightly on her knee, posture straight.
"Are you related to Monica Veyron?"
"She’s my sister."
"I noticed the resemblance." He lifted one foot onto the arm of the sofa, hand resting casually near his waist, deliberately taking up space. His cock hung heavy between his legs. "So. Government."
"Yes."
I watched her hand the moment to him without hesitation and wondered why. Bagins was a nobody, a disgraced professor from a dead school now playing security at a mansion. There was no version of this exchange where he mattered... unless she was reading him.
"Can I be frank with you?" Bagins asked.
"You hate me and you hate the government," Melissa said, cutting straight to it.
"I fucking hate you." He nodded enthusiastically. "I hate everything about the Veyrons. And the Vales. Every single one of you."
"Then hate yourself and your own greed." Melissa’s voice stayed level, calm. "Sophia didn’t force you to go against Brown. That was your heart. Nobody put it there."
Bagins stared at us for a beat, then lowered his foot back to the floor.
"Your days are numbered," he said. The smile came late and sat crooked on his face. "I’ll be at the door. If you need anything."
He walked out. The heavy doors clicked shut behind him, and the room settled into a weighted silence.
"Poor man," Melissa muttered.
"Do you actually think we can convince her?" I asked.
"No." She leaned back into the sofa, her composure loosening slightly now that we were alone. Her bare breasts rose and fell with a deeper breath. "We came to try. That’s not the same as believing it will work."
"And if we fail?" I let the words hang. "Do you think she lets us walk out of here?"
Melissa’s gaze drifted to the far wall, covered in large, elegant photographs of Mrs. Rivers—each one capturing her naked, proud, and utterly unashamed.
"No," she said quietly. "She doesn’t. Which is why we need to convince her."
I nodded. I’d reached the same conclusion somewhere around the moment Mr. Kim had spoken her name to hundreds of eager listeners.
"I think she brought you here to kill you," I said. "In front of all of them. Nothing rallies an opposition like watching a government official executed in public."
Melissa tipped her head back and exhaled slowly at the ceiling, the elegant line of her throat exposed.
"I see it clearly now," she said. "I saw it the moment we walked through that gate." She turned her head toward me. "Let’s try anyway."
"Yeah."
But I understood power. And I had never once seen anyone talk their way out of it.
The doors across from us swung open.
Mrs. Rivers stepped through, flanked by ten ability users.
We both straightened on the sofa.