Layla McKenna

[R-18, maybe! I don't know... so be careful]

The eyepatch-wearing woman kept her alluring smile as she graciously gestured toward the leather couch in front of her desk. 

She then rose from behind her desk and approached the couch. 

Damon had no choice but to comply and sat down, silently praying to every god he knew that she would sit in the single armchair beside the couch instead. 

But apparently, the tower's signal to the Heavens was weak, because not only did she choose the couch, she sat just a few centimeters away from him. 

"I hope your fight with the android didn't hurt you too badly." 

She glanced at Damon's injured arm with a concerned expression, tracing her fingertips lightly around the wound as she continued, 

"Well… aside from this one. I hope it doesn't hurt too much…" 

Damon could feel his heartbeat accelerating with every passing second. 

His ears burned red, and breathing was slowly becoming a challenge. 

+ "What the hell is wrong with her? Asharaa, do something—my heart rate's gonna kill me!"

++ "I don't think I can help… but I'll try… hahaha…"

Damon swallowed hard, desperately avoiding eye contact with the woman's smile, and muttered, 

"There's no need to worry, ma'am. Opytus Lennon already treated the wound, and I'm really feeling much better now…" 

Still smiling seductively, she crossed her right leg over her left, causing her uniform skirt to ride up slightly, exposing more of her smooth, pale skin. 

She then brought a hand to her lips, feigning embarrassment as she spoke, 

"Oh, how rude of me… I knew your name from the start, but I never introduced myself."

She then gently placed her hand on Damon's shoulder. 

"I am Centurion Layla McKenna. But like I said, I'd much rather you call me by my first name, Damon…" 

Damon was **sweating bullets**, struggling to **peel his gaze away** from Layla's **bare thigh**. 

+ "Asharaa, do something! Little Damon is getting restless—any second now, he's gonna start competing with the tower itself! 

This woman is doing this on purpose… What kind of cursed luck do I have?!" 

Asharaa, clearly flustered, shot back, 

++ "What do you expect me to do?! Even if I could help, I wouldn't deal with… that part of your body. You perv…" 

Desperate, Damon crossed his legs, trying to discreetly loosen the top button of his collar as he responded, 

"Nice to meet you, Lay… La… 

But like I said, I'm perfectly fine. Besides, the military entrance exams start in less than a week, so I really need to focus on training in the techniques and skills I've been provided with to increase my chances of passing. 

I'd rather not take up too much of your time…"

All Damon could think about was getting as far away as possible from Layla McKenna. 

On one hand, every instinct in his body was screaming that she was not to be trusted. 

On the other hand, with each passing second, controlling his body and reactions was becoming more and more difficult. 

Layla placed her hand on Damon's thigh, her smile as seductive as ever. 

"I understand how stressful and intimidating the military entrance exam must be. But I want you to stay just a little longer and listen to what I have to say…" 

She slowly lifted her hand from his thigh, lazily trailing it along his cheek before brushing back his disheveled hair from his earlier fight with Jax. 

Damon was reaching his limit—every ounce of his focus was spent on keeping himself from lunging at Layla and ripping off her tight, form-fitting uniform. 

All he could do was nod stiffly in response. 

"Good boy," she murmured, her voice dripping with honey. 

"It really pains me to see revolutionaries using someone as talented and charming as you… or worse, hurting you. 

And yes, that's right—the person who hacked the android was one of them." 

She let out a sigh, her fingers gently caressing his arm. 

"Damon, even though you haven't officially passed the exam yet, the moment you decided to join the military, you became one of us. 

And as a soldier, it's my duty to protect and look after every member of our forces. 

But the problem is, I'm just one person… and I need help. 

Will you help me, Damon? Help me protect both yourself and the rest of our military?" 

By this point, Layla was practically pressed against him, but Damon wasn't hearing a single word she said. 

He was too busy holding his left wrist with his right hand, physically restraining himself from grabbing her chest. 

Once again, he simply nodded—anything to get her to move away. 

Layla's sweet smile widened. 

"Oh, thank you. You have no idea how much of a burden this lifts off my shoulders…" 

She placed her hand back on his thigh, her fingers lightly tracing the fabric. 

"I'm sure one day, I'll find a way to repay this favor in whatever way you'd like…" 

Then, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

"I know they've asked you to act as a spy for them… 

I know they threatened your family. 

I know because you're not the first one—they've hurt plenty of others before you." 

Her breath was warm against his skin as she continued, 

"So what do you think? For now, just keep your connection with them and try to gather as much information as you can. 

Of course, I'd never want you to put yourself in danger—your safety is far more important to me than any mission. 

In exchange, I'll do everything I can to help you with the entrance exam. 

And if we manage to obtain valuable intel and pass it up the chain… 

Well, maybe—just maybe—we can get your family full citizenship. 

So? Do you think you can handle it, Damon?"

Damon shot up from the couch so fast it was almost comical. 

He put some much-needed distance between himself and Layla before blurting out, 

"Of course! Why not?! I'll do whatever I can to help the military! 

I'll get Opytus Lennon's ID, and the next time they contact me, I'll report everything I learn directly to him! 

But… if there's no issue with it, I'd really like to excuse myself now. 

I think I've lost too much blood and… let's just say there's no ka left in my body. 

I really need to rest."

For a fraction of a second, Layla's eyebrows twitched downward. 

But just as quickly, her sweet smile and sultry tone returned.

"That's a great idea. After the fight you had, your body needs rest… 

I was happy to see you, Damon. I hope today's events won't have a negative effect on you, and I want you to know—no matter what, the military and I are watching over you."

Damon forced a stiff smile. 

"Thank you, Layla… I won't take up any more of your time." 

Then, without sparing Opytus Lennon a glance, he hurried out of the room. 

As soon as the door shut behind him, Opytus turned to Layla, his expression hard. 

"That was a bit excessive for a kid his age… He hasn't even lived half a century yet. 

And you know I don't like watching this part of your job." 

Layla stood from the couch, sauntered over to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

She pressed a heated kiss to his lips before whispering, 

"Don't be jealous, Dom. You know it's all just words—nothing more. 

Besides, after ninety-seven years in this job, I know exactly how far I can push things. 

I know what counts as 'too much.' 

Now go after him. Reassure him a little—tell him his family won't be harmed and all that comforting nonsense…"

Dom—Dominic—let out a long sigh, shaking his head in disapproval. 

"How long do you think this one will last? 

This is the fifth one, Layla. 

Their numbers are piling up, and there's only so much longer I can stomach sacrificing all these kids." 

Layla cupped his face between her hands, her gaze unwavering. 

"I don't know… If he passes the entrance exam, maybe three...four months at most. 

But no matter how short that time is, we need the intel he gathers. 

We're not the ones killing these kids, Dom. 

It's those filthy revolutionaries. 

So don't waste your guilt on this, my love."

Dom kissed her hand before stepping out of the room. 

As requested, he found Damon and approached him in a friendly manner, offering reassurance and empty promises about his family's safety. 

What he didn't realize, however, was that Damon had seen plenty of people like Layla in the Fringe before. 

He hadn't believed a single word she said. 

His low spirits had nothing to do with her words—but with his own weakness. 

His weakness in allowing people like Layla… 

Or that revolutionary hacker… 

To use him like a pawn.