Genetic Ascension-Chapter 1266: Personal Tailor

Sylas stepped out of his room with a calm expression. His robes were no longer torn, but instead a pressed black with golden embroidery. Honestly, he would have preferred to wear the sort of business casual clothing he loved so much back on Earth, but there wasn’t exactly a simple way to source that stuff out here. So this would have to do.

He didn’t make it very far, though, before he was stopped by not just one, but two women.

They were both expected by him, but one much more than the other. The less expected of the two was actually Lorien. He had left her here to her own devices, and considering her certain proclivities, though they did have a contract, he assumed that she would be doing her best to stay as far away from him for as long as possible.

The second was Megean, the more expected of the two. She stood there in silence, her head lowered, seemingly not in a very chatty mood. From what he knew of her, she was quite a social person, but she hadn’t had it in her to stir up a conversation with Lorien, who was a bundle of unexpected nerves right now.

Sylas paused, gazed at the two, and, losing patience with the fact neither spoke, he turned to leave.

Megean reacted first, snapping out of her trance. She registered the door opening a bit late and rushed forward to stop Sylas.

"Yes?" Sylas asked calmly.

"I..." Megean shook her head. "I wanted to say thank you. But... is there really no chance that...?"

"I’d let your grandfather go? No."

Megean lowered her head further. She knew how this world worked. If before Sylas wasn’t willing to, then right now he certainly wouldn’t be after he had risked his life to retrieve her.

"But..."

"If you want to say that I gained from entering your Golden Grove’s Secret Realm, that’s true. But this won’t change things."

He didn’t have the time to wait for Megean to wade through her words. It was about time he went off to the Beast Warlord Sanctum, and he had several timelines working in his mind right now.

First was Earth’s own integration into the wider system. Second was the Milky Way’s upgrade as well. Once those two things were completed, they would certainly be in danger.

There was also Cassarae and her stint with the Petals of the Seeing Thorn that he had to be wary of, and as though all of that wasn’t bad enough, there was still Alex’s fuck-up to clean up after.

He didn’t know when Alex’s selfish choice would come to roost, but that made his limited time situation even more pressing.

Megean took a breath and looked up to meet Sylas’ eyes.

"I understand. Then, how can I repay you? I won’t ask you to release my grandfather again, but I only hope that the tasks you give him at least have a good chance of survival..."

"A pawn that dies too early or too easily would be a wasted pawn."

Megean clenched her teeth, not liking the way Sylas spoke of her grandfather, but she still understood it to be true. At the very least, underneath the detached chill, Sylas was saying that he wouldn’t easily go and get the one C-tier he could fully control killed just because.

She lowered her head again.

"There’s someone soon to join the Petals of the Seeing Thorn, or rather already has. My wife, Cassarae Grimblade. You’ll go and support her." Sylas looked up to Lorien. "As will you."

After Sylas said this, he directly left.

Lorien’s mouth opened as though she wanted to say something, but her words were inevitably caught in her throat.

Sighing, she shook her head. Maybe this was another opportunity too.

Given the situation Sylas had thrown the Milky Way into, the Thryskai no longer had the care to suppress her Myst Clan. They were bottom feeders to begin with.

Ulrik was dead, his father was dead, and the main Clan never cared about such minor characters. It could be said that all the planning Lorien had done was absolutely worthless, and yet she had gained so much more even while Sylas wasn’t paying much attention to her at all.

If she wanted to reach a new level... this was going to have to be the way.

Shutting up and following him would be enough for now...

\*\*

For the first time, Sylas stepped outside of the Golden Grove’s headquarters. Looking up to the skies, he ran a hand through his hair. As wild and unruly as it looked, it was quite soft to the touch and didn’t tangle or knot in the slightest. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Hygiene had always been important to Sylas, and while he didn’t get much of a chance to focus on it running around these days, when he did get such a chance, he went all out.

With a thought, he brought Jala and Alex out, shaking his head at the unfortunate disappearance of the Demonic Emperors. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t have them in his repertoire.

Not far behind him, Old Brama stood, his gaze respectful and his hands clasped behind his back. With him here, Sylas could at least make certain that he wouldn’t die due to the random temper of some arrogant bastard.

The journey to the Beast Warlord Sanctum wasn’t too easy and straightforward.

Well, making it to their galaxy would be easy. Unfortunately, once there, there was no direct teleportation to their Sanctum. They were a holy land of sorts that could only be accessed by those given a badge of entry.

Sylas had Gralith’s token of identity, but it wasn’t the badge he needed. He would have to show it at the gates, and that would mean actually getting there first.

"You sure you want to wear that?" Alex asked, blinking with a grin on his face.

Sylas looked over with a flicker in his eyes. "... Do you have a suggestion?"

"Ah, I never told you, I’m a bit of a fashionista myself, a man’s man, and a woman’s ideal lover. I have a Tailoring Profession."

"... Is that so..." Sylas nodded. "I won’t wear anything with defensive or attacking buffs."

Alex’s grin widened. "Leave it to me."

...

Soon, Sylas stood feeling a lot more comfortable. Who said he had to conform to everything in this world? He had been running around one step shy of an ape for too long.

Rather than adapting to this world, it would be better if at least in some aspects, it adapted to him.

He wore a long, sleek black trench coat, pairing it with some black slacks and a button-up crimson red dress shirt, its collars swaying slightly in the wind. A pair of black boots adorned his feet and for the first time in a long while, he felt comfort in what he was wearing.

He exhaled a calm breath, slipping on a pair of black sunglasses that hid the depths of his emerald eyes.

Now, he felt ready.

"Suck-up..." Jala muttered.

"Rather than insulting me, you should be asking me why I can read his mind. I’d make a good wife, wouldn’t I?"

Jala’s face twisted with disgust.

"What’s with that face? There’s probably someone fucking a tentacle monster around the corner right now, and this is what’s throwing you off? Get it together."

Sylas strolled off to the nearest teleportation platform, ignoring their banter. His eyes had a depth of dark focus to them barely hidden behind shade.

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