abilities, just like Reapers do with reaping. That's all that counts to them, but that's not all that matters to the world. You have skills, probably more than you realize, because you've accepted their words as truth. Fucking insertion and reaping aren't any more important than feeding others, or creating beauty, or rubbing someone's back while they cry. Now get over there and do your fucking job and stop poisoning your soul with the lies of broken beings.”
I spun her around with shaking hands and marched her in front of me until we reached Corin's chair.
“Have a seat, Grace.” I turned, bowing slightly to Corin. My body vibrated, and I just wanted to go. The elitist mindset that infected my world left me with a desire to burn it all down. But, unfortunately, I couldn't. “Prince Corin, thank you for your time. I leave Grace as my stand-in. If you need me, contact me. I must go for now.”
He nodded slowly, eyeing me before his gaze darted to Grace and back. “Thank you, Master Healani, for entrusting me with this task. I will endeavor to find a solution to the problem facing the OMIEB.” His head dipped before giving me leave. “Until we meet again.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
After leaving Grace, I headed to the DNB. The trip there took longer than it should have, but I spotted Neil lurking outside of the Investigations building and skirted around him, adding time. When I made it in, I went straight to the Logistics department.
The department only had three Reapers calling it home, and none of them worked in it every binal. Instead, they drifted between Logistics and Supplies. When I peeked inside, I found it to be empty, which was exactly what I wanted.
After using the code kit to unlock the door, I slipped inside and closed it behind me. The ferrule tied to the department sat in a locked cabinet opposite the door, and I floated over to it. The divisions such as Logistics, Resources, the portal room, and so on had their own ferrules that allowed them limited access to only the information they needed. And because none of the workers in those areas were Masters, they remained within the offices where they wouldn't be tampered with.
I chuckled softly as I used the code kit once more to gain a connection to their ferrule. Sure, I had my own in my pocket, but using it was out of the question. Anything sent through mine would have my number attached to the request, and what I had planned wasn't exactly legal.
Once the ferrule lit up, I entered the files I required and adjusted some of the numbers, lowering them by a tiny sum. Moving quickly, I kept subtracting supplies from the most well-stocked areas. Finally, I made a new request, filled out a different form with the amount I'd filched, sending them to a warehouse. Con would take possession of the supplies and distribute them to those that needed them the most. I also added two fuses—one to fix his shitty portal and one to serve as a spare.
It might have seemed odd for a Soulless to own a portal since they couldn't use it, but when he'd heard that some were being replaced because the maintenance cost had grown too much, he saw a business opportunity. Not everyone had access to the official portals, and Reapers would pay to travel to other planets. The illegal trade industry boomed with art and tapestries from many worlds, spices from others, and anything else the traders thought someone would want. It was a dangerous but highly lucrative job.
Since I had plans for Con's portal, it needed to work properly. Our last trip on it left us hugging the ground on Earth, and I didn't care to repeat the experience.
I also required a few new passes, clean ones that wouldn't tie us to anything. Getting them delivered wouldn't be the problem. After all, I just had to punch in the right information. No, my issue would come when I went to pick them up. They couldn't be sent to my unit or my Office or anywhere associated with me.
My timing would be the difference between being tossed back into the dungeons or providing us with a clean way to travel without notice. Before, I wouldn't have gone so far. Mostly because they rarely ever checked where we'd moved so long as we kept up with our quota. But, with the spotlight being on us and how