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A Rider Kick in Marvel Rewrite Vol 2 Ch 12
🕑 Added 2025-05-22 14:11:54 +0000 UTCAce's body, now under Urataros's control, drifts to a smooth stop before Eternal Bloom Cosmetics. The building screams high-end, with sleek glass panels reflecting the afternoon sun. Lush greenery frames the entrance, a calculated attempt to appear 'natural' amid the steel and concrete.
"Quite the establishment," Urataros muses, his eyes scanning the building. A veritable garden of beautiful women. I'm in paradise.
Ace's thoughts break through, Focus, Romeo. We're here for a reason.
"Yes, yes, of course," Urataros replies, though his tone suggests anything but focus. "Eliminating a dangerous Imagin. What a noble quest."
He dismounts the Trychaser, striking a pose as he smooths down his jacket—a purely subconscious action. A flurry of police activity surrounds the entrance; yellow tape cordons off the area, and officers mill about, interviewing employees. Even in the midst of the chaos, Urataros can't help but admire the workers—each one a vision of carefully crafted beauty. No wonder this Vineveil is so jealous.
"Seems like the local constabulary has caught on," Ace notes, observing the scene. "They've made the connection to Eternal Bloom as well."
"Indeed," Urataros agrees. "But their methods are so... pedestrian. Asking questions? Pathetic. We need to get inside, Ace. That's where the answers lie... and possibly more beautiful women."
How do you propose we do that? Ace presses, his patience wearing thin. We can't exactly stroll through the front door.
Urataros's grin widens, revealing a flash of mischief. "Leave that to me, partner. I have a few... persuasive techniques in mind."
A gaggle of Eternal Bloom employees huddles near a side entrance, their faces etched with worry and confusion. Each one is strikingly beautiful, a testament to the company's image. Urataros's eyes gleam—an opportunity ripe for the taking.
"Ladies," he begins, his voice smooth as silk, "such lovely flowers wilting in the shadows of this tragedy. May I offer a ray of sunshine?"
The women turn, their expressions wary, but intrigued. Urataros steps forward, his charm dialed up to eleven.
"I couldn't help but notice your distress," he continues, his gaze lingering on each of them. "Eternal Bloom is a temple of beauty, and to see it defiled like this... it breaks my heart."
One of the women, with long flowing black hair, speaks up, "Who are you? Are you a reporter?"
Urataros chuckles, "A reporter? Please. I'm a dreamer, a visionary. I've always admired Eternal Bloom from afar. It's been my lifelong ambition to work here. To contribute to the artistry, the elegance..."
He pauses, letting his words hang in the air. Oh, this is getting good, Ace thinks dryly.
"But," Urataros adds, lowering his voice, "I'm afraid I lack the... connections. The inside track. A humble traveler like myself can only dream."
The women exchange glances, their skepticism slowly melting away. Another woman, with fiery red hair, steps forward. "What kind of job are you looking for?"
Urataros smiles, "Anything, my dear. Janitor, assistant, anything to get my foot in the door. I'm a fast learner, and I'm willing to work harder than anyone. Just give me a chance to prove myself."
The women are hooked, their faces softening with sympathy. The redhead nods, "I'm Stacy, and this is Sarah and Jessica. We might be able to help you."
"Really?" Urataros asks, feigning surprise. "You would do that for me?"
"Eternal Bloom needs all the help it can get right now," Stacy replies. "If you're really willing to work, we can sneak you in. Just stay close and follow our lead."
Urataros beams, "You have no idea how grateful I am. Lead the way, ladies. My destiny awaits."
As the women guide him towards the side entrance, expertly navigating past the police tape, Ace's thoughts echo in his head: I should be shocked, but honestly, I'm just impressed. How does he do it?
The answer, Ace knows, is simple: Urataros is a master of manipulation, a silver-tongued devil who can charm his way into any situation. And right now, that skill is exactly what they need.
Ace, still under Urataros's influence, finds himself ushered into the bustling heart of Eternal Bloom. The air hums with activity, a hive of beauticians and cosmetic artists working diligently. Urataros's eyes widen—a sea of top-tier beauties surrounds him, a good eighty percent of the workforce female, each sculpted to near perfection. I've died and gone to heaven, he thinks, a dreamy sigh escaping his lips.
Focus, Urataros, Ace snaps internally, fighting to regain control. We're here to find a monster, not a date.
The redhead, Stacy, turns to him, her expression expectant. "So, what exactly are your skills?" she asks, her eyes narrowed in a playful challenge.
Urataros doesn't miss a beat, his mind conjuring a string of lies on the spot. "I'm a master of disguise, a whiz with makeup, a connoisseur of all things beautiful," he declares, puffing out his chest. "I can transform anyone into a vision of perfection."
The women giggle, amused by his brazen confidence. Urataros winks, his charm oozing from every pore. "And of course, I'm an expert in making women smile. It's my greatest talent, after all." The women blush and giggle.
A hush falls over the floor as a woman enters, her presence commanding immediate attention. Evelynne Hart is a vision of carefully constructed elegance, a masterpiece of cosmetic artistry. Her silver hair is styled in an intricate updo, framing a face that, while bearing the subtle marks of time, is undeniably striking. Every line, every curve, seems meticulously crafted, a testament to her life's work. She wears a tailored suit of deep crimson, its sharp lines accentuating her poise and confidence.
The employees spring into action, bowing their heads in unison as Evelynne passes. "Good morning, Ms. Hart," they murmur, their voices filled with a mixture of respect and deference.
Urataros raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Who's the Ice Queen?" he whispers to Stacy, his voice barely audible above the ambient hum.
"That's Evelynne Hart," Stacy replies, her tone hushed. "The president of Eternal Bloom. The founder of the whole company."
Urataros's eyes follow Evelynne as she moves through the room, her gaze sharp and assessing. He scans her from head to toe, taking in every detail. And then he sees it: a faint but unmistakable trickle of sand escaping from beneath her shoes, a tell-tale sign of Imagin possession.
Ace! Urataros exclaims internally, his amusement replaced with a surge of adrenaline. I think we've found our contractor.
Alarm bells blare in Ace's mind. That's her? The president? This just got a whole lot more complicated.
"Oh, this is getting interesting," Urataros drawls, his lips curving into a sly grin. He nudges Stacy with his elbow. "So, how does a humble janitor get an audience with the queen?"
Stacy laughs, "Good luck with that. Ms. Hart is practically untouchable. She's always busy with meetings, product development, or photo shoots. You'd have a better chance of winning the lottery."
"Nonsense," Urataros retorts, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "There's always a way."
He winks, a mischievous glint in his eye, and begins to formulate a plan.
Urataros smoothly trails Evelynne through the maze of cubicles and workstations. The woman moves with purpose, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. She disappears behind a door marked "President" in elegant gold lettering.
Before the door stands an assistant. Petite, but undeniably cute, with a shy demeanor that seems at odds with the cutthroat world of cosmetics. She fidgets with her pen, avoiding eye contact.
Oh, great, Ace thinks. A damsel in distress. Just what Urataros needs.
Urataros approaches the assistant, his posture radiating confidence. "Good afternoon, lovely," he begins, his voice a low, melodic hum. "A vision of loveliness guarding the gates of paradise."
The assistant blushes, her eyes widening slightly. "C-can I help you?" she stutters, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Indeed," Urataros replies, his gaze softening. "I simply must speak with Ms. Hart. It's a matter of utmost importance. A matter of... beauty."
He pauses, letting his words hang in the air. The assistant hesitates, her fingers twisting nervously around her pen. "Ms. Hart is very busy. She doesn't usually take unscheduled visitors."
"Ah, but that's where you come in, my dear," Urataros says, his charm intensifying. "You see, I possess a certain... insight. A talent for recognizing true beauty. And I sense that Ms. Hart is a woman of exquisite taste. I simply must share my vision with her."
He leans closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And perhaps," he adds, "I could share a little of that vision with you as well. Over dinner, perhaps? I know this charming café. Great food, excellent company..."
The assistant's cheeks flush crimson, her eyes darting nervously between Urataros and the closed door. "I-I don't know," she stammers.
"Think of it as a small act of rebellion," Urataros presses, his voice laced with playful mischief. "A chance to escape the clutches of the Ice Queen, even for a little while."
He pulls out an imaginary business card, scribbling Ace's number on it. "Here, this is my number. Call me, and we can go out on a date."
What the hell, Urataros! Ace screams internally. You can't just give out my number!
Urataros ignores him, his focus solely on the assistant. Her eyes flutter with indecision, but the promise of escape—and perhaps a little romance—is too tempting to resist.
"Okay," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "But you have to be quick. And don't tell Ms. Hart I let you in."
Urataros grins, his eyes sparkling with triumph. "You have my word, angel." He turns to Ace, his thoughts laced with glee. See, Ace? A little charm goes a long way. Don't worry I have this under control.
Ace is exasperated but powerless to stop Urataros. This is going to be a disaster, he thinks grimly. But at least we're in.
Urataros steps into Evelynne's office, his senses on high alert. The room is a reflection of its occupant: immaculate, controlled, and undeniably expensive. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of the city, a subtle reminder of Evelynne's power and influence. A massive desk dominates the room, its surface clear of clutter, save for a few carefully placed photographs and a sleek, silver pen.
Evelynne turns to face him, her expression a mask of polite curiosity. "And who might you be?" she asks, her voice cool and measured.
Urataros offers a disarming smile, his charm turned up to full wattage. "Just a humble admirer, Ms. Hart," he replies, his tone oozing sincerity. "I couldn't resist the opportunity to express my appreciation for your work. Eternal Bloom is a true inspiration."
Evelynne raises an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her gaze. "An admirer who sneaks past my assistant? You're a bold one."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Urataros retorts, his smile unwavering. "I simply had to meet the woman behind the magic. You're a true visionary, Ms. Hart."
Evelynne's expression softens slightly, a flicker of vanity crossing her features. "You're very kind," she says, her voice tinged with warmth. "But I'm afraid I'm rather busy. What exactly did you want to discuss?"
"Just a few moments of your time," Urataros replies smoothly. "I'm fascinated by the pursuit of beauty, Ms. Hart. It's a lifelong passion. What inspires you?"
"Youth and elegance," Evelynne says, without missing a beat. "The only way to keep yourself relevant."
Bingo, Ace thinks, but he knows they need to be careful.
Urataros feigns shock. "How tragic, you of all people, to think this way. Beauty comes from within, no matter the age."
They make small talk for a bit, discussing Eternal Bloom's latest product line and Evelynne's philosophy on skincare. Urataros peppers the conversation with compliments, his words carefully chosen to appeal to Evelynne's ego.
"I was wondering Ms. Hart," Urataros said, feigning curiosity. "Have you met anyone strange lately? Perhaps... a monster?"
Evelynne's eyes widen, her face paling slightly. "A monster?" she asks, her voice trembling. "What are you talking about?"
"You know," Urataros continues, his gaze unwavering, "big, ugly, scary. The kind that grants wishes."
Evelynne recoils, her hand instinctively reaching for the pen on her desk. "I don't know what you're implying," she says, her voice rising in pitch. "But I assure you, I haven't met any monsters."
She's lying, Ace realizes, his heart pounding in his chest. She definitely knows something.
"Are you sure about that, Ms. Hart?" Urataros asks, his voice dropping to a low, menacing growl. "Because I have a feeling you're not being entirely honest with me. Let me ask you again. Have you met a monster?"
