Taming SSR And UR RANK Superwomen-Chapter 77 — Controversial Presence

The conversation took place that same night, when the mansion had already fallen into one of those silences that seemed to swallow even the sound of the air. Thomas did not call her to the basement or the main hall.

He chose a private room in the east wing, a spacious chamber with dark wooden walls, a low table between two armchairs, and a single lamp lit that left the rest of the room in shadow.

Selene arrived seven minutes late.

Not enough to call it carelessness, but enough to make it clear she had to rearrange things to be there. She wore a black cap, a long coat, and glasses she had probably used to avoid being recognized on the way out.

Even so, it was hard not to notice her. Her long, light-blue hair, divided into two twin tails, was far too distinctive even when she tried to disguise it. As she closed the door, she let out a contained sigh, removed her glasses, and looked at him with an expression that perfectly mixed exhaustion and controlled irritation.

"I canceled a meeting, moved two calls, and left my manager looking like he wanted to kill me." Her voice sounded flat, but not soft. "I hope this is important."

Thomas was seated, one leg crossed over the other, with a closed folder on the table. He did not respond to the complaint. He simply lifted his gaze toward her.

"Sit."

Selene pressed her lips together slightly. She did not argue. She took off her coat, placed it folded over the back of a side chair, and sat in front of him with an automatic elegance that did not come from being relaxed, but from being used to always being watched.

Even so, the irritation was still there. It was not open, not impulsive, but it existed.

"Then talk."

Thomas rested a finger on the folder without opening it.

"In a few days, it will be the annual beast domestication tournament."

Selene blinked once. The information did not surprise her. What made her frown slightly was something else.

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"You’re coming."

There was no diplomatic pause. No introduction to soften the order. Thomas said it the way he said almost everything: like a decision already made before the conversation even began.

Selene exhaled slowly through her nose and turned her gaze to the side for a second before looking back at him.

"You phrased it as if I still had time to give an opinion."

"You don’t."

The answer was immediate.

Selene held his gaze. Not with defiance, but with that dry exhaustion of someone who already knew how certain conversations worked and still allowed herself the symbolic gesture of showing she didn’t like them. Her fingers intertwined over her lap.

"I have a schedule."

"I know."

"I have contracts."

"I know."

"I have a closed stream with sponsors in two days."

"Move it."

This time, the expression on Selene’s face shifted a bit more. Not to surprise. To real irritation.

"Do you know how much money a single one of those streams generates?"

"Yes."

"And you still made me come here to tell me to cancel it?"

"I didn’t say cancel it. I said move it."

Selene fell silent. The precision of the response irritated her more than she would have admitted. Thomas watched her without hurry.

He knew her well enough to understand that giving her space was not granting her authority, but allowing her to exhaust the first part of her resistance.

"You want me there for my Gift," she said at last.

"Yes."

"And because I draw attention."

"Also."

Selene leaned back against the armchair. Her twin tails slid over her shoulders and fell forward. She looked impeccable even while tired, and that too seemed to bother her in that moment, as if she hated that her image kept working while she was in a bad mood.

"That’s going to be a problem."

Thomas did not respond. He waited for her to elaborate.

Selene glanced toward the lamp for a second, organizing her thoughts.

"The tournament already attracts a lot of attention on its own. Not because it’s elegant, but because of what it represents. It’s an old, loud, aggressive spectacle, full of customs that many people criticize and just as many defend simply because it has always existed." She looked back at him. "Now add the fact that you’re going to show up as a man in an environment where most expect women competing under their own criteria, their own methods, and their own prestige."

Thomas nodded once.

"Yes."

"And not just that." Selene crossed her legs with a measured movement. "You’re going to appear accompanied by me."

"Yes."

She let out a short laugh, without humor.

"A famous streamer. Cosplayer. Public figure. Woman. With a Gift of fortune that’s far too well known. Close to you."

"I don’t need you to summarize the obvious."

"I’m doing it because it seems like you don’t care."

"I don’t."

Selene tilted her head slightly.

"That’s exactly the problem."

The silence that followed was not long, but it was dense. Thomas did not look away. Selene knew that when he stayed still like that, it was because he was letting her say what she needed before setting the final direction.

"Your presence is already going to be controversial," she continued. "The fact that there will also be women around you receiving your instructions is going to make it worse. It doesn’t matter how you present it. It doesn’t matter if you don’t do anything scandalous. The simple fact of being there with that dynamic is going to draw attention."

Thomas rested his forearm on the arm of the chair.

"That doesn’t bother me."

"It affects me."

"Not in a decisive way."

Selene frowned slightly.

"That’s easy to say when you’re not the one living off a public image."

Thomas did not raise his tone.

"And yet you will be there."

Selene looked at him steadily. That was the part she hated most about talking to him. Not that he contradicted her. Not that he pressured her. But that he said certain things with an absolute calm that made it useless to dramatize in front of him.

Thomas wasn’t trying to convince her with emotion. He had already decided the outcome. The conversation existed only to define the form.

"I’ll be there," she finally said, "but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea."

"Many of my useful decisions don’t seem like good ideas at first."

"That sounds better in your head than you think."

"I don’t need it to sound good."

Selene closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again, more tired than before. She wasn’t a soft woman. Nor naïve.

She had survived too long dealing with audiences, producers, sponsors, forced collaborations, and people trying to buy every minute of her day not to recognize what was happening.

Thomas was taking her time. Again. The difference was that with him, irritation did not open the door to real negotiation.

"Then tell me exactly what you expect from me."

"That you be present."

"I already understood that."

"I want you to come with me, stay close, and not improvise any unnecessary reactions when the noise starts."

Selene watched him in silence.

"Media noise or crowd noise?"

"Both."

She rested an elbow on the arm of the chair and held her temple with two fingers.

"There will be comments. There will be looks. There will be women annoyed just by seeing you there. And if they recognize me, even worse. They’ll start speculating. Am I supporting you? Am I being used as a charm? Am I approving something they consider a step backward? Am I endorsing a man entering a space many of them feel is theirs?"

Thomas did not dispute any of those possibilities.

"Yes."

Selene exhaled through her nose, annoyed.

"It drives me crazy that you say yes to everything like it’s nothing."

"Because none of that changes what’s necessary."

"It changes it for me."

"You’ll endure it."

She tilted her head slightly.

"How kind."

Thomas ignored the comment.

"Your presence benefits me."

"You don’t have to say it like I’m a well-placed piece of furniture."

"Then I’ll say it more precisely. Your Gift improves probabilities. Your presence alters the environment. Your image attracts attention. And your ability to maintain composure under pressure is superior to almost anyone I could bring."

Selene remained silent.

It wasn’t a compliment. She knew that too. Thomas wasn’t sugarcoating anything. He was listing reasons. Maybe that was exactly why it was harder to refuse him: because even when he used her, he usually did it with a logic too clean to pretend it didn’t exist.

"That doesn’t avoid the controversy," she said.

"I don’t need to avoid it."

"You want to use it?"

Thomas took half a second to respond.

"I want it to exist in my favor."

Selene narrowed her eyes.

"I like that even less."

"I didn’t ask whether you liked it."

She let her hand fall back to her lap.

"Of course you didn’t."

There was a brief silence. This time, Selene broke it.

"What happens if the attention gets out of control?"

"It won’t."

"That’s not an answer."

"It is the answer." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Selene smiled faintly, but without joy.

"Your level of confidence would be unbearable if I weren’t used to it."

"You are used to it."

"Yes." She lowered her gaze for a second. "Too much."

The phrase came out with more exhaustion than reproach. Thomas noticed, though he didn’t show it.

Selene had spent years managing impossible schedules, public appearances, other people’s commitments, and a fame that, as much as it benefited her, also devoured hours of her life like a bottomless beast.

That someone else deciding over her time annoyed her precisely because too many people already did. The difference with Thomas was that he didn’t disguise the intrusion as a polite request.