Demonic Pornstar System novel Chapter 733

Chapter 733: Betrayal

Magnus Morvane sat behind his desk with his hands flat on the surface and the broadcast feed playing in his interface.

His left hand was trembling.

Grace stood to his right. Her hands were folded behind her back. She watched him with sheer disgust.

Someone knocked on his door. Then knocked again. Then a third time, frantic, knuckles hammering wood.

"Guild Leader!!"

Magnus didn’t answer immediately. The feed held him, where Alice Ashborn had just spoken his name, his birth name, the name he’d been forced to take back, to an audience of millions.

’Magnus Morvane. Selena Morvane. Cassian Morvane. Calix Morvane.’

’They all tried to kill my brother.’

The knocking continued.

"Come in," Magnus said.

The door opened and a man stumbled through it.

Harlan, the guild’s administrative coordinator, a mid-forties career bureaucrat who had never once entered Magnus’s office without an appointment. His face was gray. He was holding a tablet in both hands like it might explode.

"Guild Leader." His voice cracked on the second word. "I’m sorry to interrupt. Sir, we have a resignation situation."

Magnus’s eyes moved to him.

The air in the office thickened. Magnus’s hand curled into a fist on the desk, slow and controlled, and the mana pressure that bled off him made Harlan’s tablet rattle against his fingernails.

"Who," Magnus growled, "dares abandon New Dawn at a time like this?"

Harlan opened his mouth. Closed it. His throat worked and produced nothing useful.

"Speak. I want to hear the name."

"It’s..." Harlan looked down at his tablet. His hands were shaking badly enough that he had to grip it with both palms flat to read the screen. "It’s not... one."

"What?"

"The number when I left my desk was forty-three." He swallowed. "It’s, ah." He checked the tablet again. His face went from gray to white. "Forty-four. Forty-five." A pause. "Forty-seven, sir."

The office was very quiet.

Magnus stared at him for long enough that Harlan’s knees began to buckle under the weight of the mana pressure alone. The man looked like he wanted to dissolve into the floor and reappear in a different continent.

"Forty-seven resignation notices," Magnus repeated.

"And climbing, sir."

Magnus exhaled through his nose.

His mind was already working, sorting and categorizing the damage, isolating the source. Coordinated mass resignation required coordination, which required a leader, which meant this was a single point of failure dressed up as a wave. Find the organizer, make an example, and the rest would reconsider.

New Dawn employed over fourteen thousand people across its divisions. A couple dozen resignations, even hundreds, were a wound to pride, not to function. He would find who organized this tantrum, bury them professionally, and the rest would remember why leaving wasn’t worth the cost.

"Who are these people?" he asked. "Newcomers trying to make a statement?"

Harlan’s face answered the question before his mouth did.

"No, sir. It’s..." He scrolled the tablet with a thumb that could barely maintain contact with the screen. "It’s from everywhere. Low-tier administrative staff, department heads, senior analysts." His voice was getting thinner with every word. "High-tier awakened fighters. Contract termination requests mixed in with standard resignation notices. I don’t - I’m not sure which format applies to which, some of these are coming in as formal letters and some are just -"

"Names," Magnus cut him off. "Give me names."

Harlan scrolled. "Commander Voss from the eastern expeditionary wing. Senior Analyst Chen from threat assessment. The entire leadership team of the logistics division, all four department heads, submitted simultaneously. Councilwoman Fenn -"

"Fenn," Magnus repeated.

"Her letter arrived eight minutes ago. It was the first one."

Of course it was. The woman who had stared him down on that call and asked ’Where is Vespera?’ while his other directors danced around it. The woman he’d told to stay in her lane and focus on her division. She’d focused on her division all right. She’d focused on walking out of it.

"Sir, Commander Voss alone oversees three hundred active fighters. His departure means-"

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