Contract Marriage with My Secret Partner in Crime-Chapter 57: Special Mission

"Montclair!" The man was grinning. He had the look of someone who had been waiting for an opportunity to strike. "You know, I was starting to feel sorry for you. But then I saw the lovely woman beside you. Thought I’d come over and give you a piece of advice." He looked at Zephany, then back at Kendrick.

"You might want to stop pretending. It’s obvious you’re still bitter about your fall from grace. There’s no shame in being average, you know."

Kendrick’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond immediately.

What annoyed him more than the comment was the fact that people from his past kept showing up. People he had already forgotten. And yet, here they were—still bitter, still envious of who he used to be. They looked up to him back then, and clearly, they hadn’t moved on.

But those things didn’t matter anymore.

He kept his composure, a quiet calm in his demeanor that only Zephany could truly appreciate.

"People seem to love reminding me of that," Kendrick said after a beat, his voice steady, with just a hint of sarcasm. "But I’m sure you’re right. I mean, what do I know? I just got married, am sitting here with a beautiful woman who cares about me, and I’m actually... content."

The man blinked, caught off guard. He had clearly expected a more aggressive response—something that would give him the chance to keep mocking Kendrick. But Kendrick wasn’t the same person anymore, not the one he remembered.

"Let me guess," Kendrick continued, his voice soft but cutting. "You want to hear about how I threw away all my potential? How I gave up everything for nothing, right? Is that what you want? Or would you rather I stayed the weak, quiet nobody that makes you feel better about your own life?"

The man shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable now. He cleared his throat and glanced nervously at the growing crowd.

"I didn’t mean it like that," he muttered, stepping back.

Kendrick didn’t respond. His eyes moved away from the man and focused back on Zephany. The crowd had quieted for a moment, and Zephany felt warmth bloom in her chest. She admired how he handled it. No outburst. No defensive rant. Just the strength to stand firm and stay true to himself.

"Do you ever get tired of them?" she asked, her voice more serious now. "The people who never stop trying to drag you down? Is it exhausting?"

He gave her a brief, almost apologetic smile. "Sometimes. It’s exhausting to be the subject of everyone’s opinions. But you learn to let it roll off. At the end of the day, all that matters is what I want, and what my family needs."

As he said it, he turned slightly toward her, and she saw the sincerity in his eyes. For the first time since they entered the arena, she wasn’t thinking about the roles they had to play or the fact that they were surrounded by strangers.

All that mattered was this moment with Kendrick, and she couldn’t help but feel a little less nervous. A little less burdened by the world.

Because the way he is now mirrored herself. She never realized until now that they had experienced the same pain. The same exhaustion.

The night went on, and despite the continued whispers, the atmosphere around them grew warmer. People were still talking, but the mockery had faded. Now, the crowd was more focused on the spectacle of the martial arts competition.

The announcer’s voice echoed through the speakers, pulling everyone’s attention back to the main event. The energy shifted as people refocused on the ring, the fighters, the competition.

Kendrick turned serious, his gaze locked on the stage. His thoughts drifted to the special mission he had received from the Archive earlier. His first time receiving this kind of directive. He’d never had a mission like this before.

> MISSION: OBSERVE AND EXPOSE ILLEGAL SUBSTANCE USE AMONG SELECTED MARTIAL ARTS CONTESTANTS.

NOTE: THIS IS A SOLO DIRECTIVE. DO NOT DISCUSS WITH TEAM BACON OR ECLIPSE.

SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: ENGAGE ON STAGE. PURPOSE CLASSIFIED.

Kendrick stared at the message. No details. No names. No roles. Just two lines.

He knew better than to ask questions. The Archive only spoke when it mattered. And when it did, you followed.

What troubled him most was the timing. He hadn’t had enough time to investigate. The notice came just minutes before he left for the event.

They were watching him. That much was clear. The Archive knew he would be here.

Pushing aside the distraction, Kendrick brought his focus back to the ring.

He watched the competitors warm up. Observed their trainers. Noted the tension between certain fighters.

Something felt off.

Three of the quarterfinalists weren’t sweating. Their movements were too sharp, too fast—but they lacked rhythm. Their jaws were tight. Their eyes glassy. Not trained. Triggered.

During the second match, Kendrick noticed a fighter blinking repeatedly, like he was struggling to stay grounded. When he won with one brutal blow to the chest, the other fighter didn’t move for ten full seconds. Paramedics rushed in.

During the third match, Kendrick quietly slipped away, telling Zephany he had to check on something Cassius requested.

In truth, he had followed one of the twitchy fighters into a restricted corridor behind the stage. No cameras. Barely any staff. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

There, inside a half-open storage room, Kendrick found a plastic bag tucked behind stacked folding chairs. Inside were injector pens. Used. Some still full. All marked with a small logo shaped like a fang.

His stomach twisted.

Black Fang. An underground enhancer formula flagged by the Archive before. Illegal. Brutal on the body. Supposedly banned years ago.

He took photos. Grabbed one full injector with a gloved hand and slid it into a hidden compartment in his belt.

Just as he turned to leave, a voice came from the shadows.

"That doesn’t belong to you."

He looked up.

One of the fighters stood at the doorway. The same one who had delivered that inhuman punch.

Kendrick said nothing, just stepped back.

The fighter smiled, but it wasn’t friendly.

"You’re not just a guest, are you?"