Power Thief's Revenge [BL]-Chapter 164: Press Confession

Chapter 164: Press Confession
The apartment was heavy with voices.
Hermes had barely finished explaining before the room broke into overlapping protests.
"You went alone?" Ymir’s words snapped like icicles. His pale eyes burned sharp, his arms locked tight over his chest. "Without telling us? Without backup?"
Aphrodite was sitting by the couch, hands raking through his pink hair. "It could’ve been a trap, Hermes. A hundred percent could’ve been a trap."
Somner was pacing. "Trap or not, it doesn’t add up. A golden boy of their little secret club just riskin’ his neck for what, because he ’disagrees’ with their methods? Nah. No one spills state-shaking secrets ’cause of a bad vibe. He’s playin’ ya."
Magni just played with the dogs since he couldn’t really share anything about the conversation, his mind too simple for conspiracies as big as this.
Hermes leaned against the counter, jaw tight, arms folded. He had expected this. Maybe even wanted it. The anger at least was grounding.
"It wasn’t a trap," he said flatly.
"Oh really?" Ymir’s sarcasm hit like frostbite. "You walk into the lion’s den, and the lion just decides to hand you the map to the whole pride? You don’t see how that screams set-up?"
Hermes rubbed at his temples. "I don’t see what they gain from setting me up with information like that."
"That’s the point!" Ymir shot back, stepping forward. "It’s bait. They dangle just enough truth to make you bite, then reel you in. That’s how this works."
Somner’s pacing stopped short. "Hold on. Back up. Who even are these people? Thirteen Stripes, okay, great name, sounds ominous. But who? Politicians? Actors? What, are we supposed to just nod along until he gives us a list?"
"Maybe he will," Hermes said. "He said if I go along with the plan—"
"Plan?" Ymir cut in, suspicion hardening his voice. "What plan?"
Hermes hesitated, then forced it out. "He wants us to be seen together. As... a duo."
The silence after was so thick you can cut it with a knife.
"Duo as in...?" Aphrodite’s voice was quiet, careful.
Hermes exhaled. "As in, he suggested we fake-date."
Somner broke first, laughter bursting out, loud and sharp. "Oh that’s rich. Guy doesn’t just hand you state secrets, he tries to get a date out of it too? Master, you’ve got a fanboy."
"Not funny," Ymir bit, glaring at Somner before turning back to Hermes. "So what, you think this makes sense? That Raphael just wants to play house with you for cover?"
"It does make sense," Hermes said, quieter now. "If we’re seen together, it gives him plausible deniability with the Stripes. He can talk to me without suspicion. And... people buy it. Rival guilds, scandal, the works."
Aphrodite finally looked up. "Or maybe he just wants the scandal for himself. You ever think about that?"
His tone was calm, but his words cut neat. "People love messy relationships. Rival heroes, secret affairs. If he ties his name to yours, his popularity doubles. Especially after that press leak about your powers. The world’s watching you, Hermes. He knows it."
The thought landed hard. Hermes clenched his fists at his sides.
"Even if that’s true," he muttered, "it doesn’t change what’s coming. My powers are out. The press is circling. I’ll have to make a statement, whether I want to or not."
Somner finally shifted, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Then focus on that first. Forget Raphael, forget his schemes. You’ve got one chance to control this story. You muck it up, you’ll never crawl out from under it."
Hermes looked at each of them in turn. Somner’s bluntness.... Ymir’s suspicion sharp as a blade..... and Aphrodite’s quiet disapproval, layered with something else Hermes couldn’t pin down.
They were right to be angry. He had gone without telling them. He had sat across from Raphael alone. And now he was dragging them into the fallout.
But the choice wasn’t going away. Raphael had forced it onto the board.
Sooner or later, Hermes would have to play his move.
***
The day of the press conference arrived heavy with smog and anticipation.
The hall was packed, rows upon rows of ers, cameras glinting like an ocean of unblinking eyes. Microphones clustered on the podium like barbed wire, all pointed at him.
Hermes stood behind it, heart hammering, his friends close enough to feel like anchors. Ymir’s arms crossed, Magni looking around like a guard dog, Aphrodite clasping his hands together in silence, Somner’s gaze bright and sharp.
They didn’t speak, but their nods were enough.
Hermes took a breath, deep, steadying. Then another.
He faced the room.
"My name is Hermes Potentia," he began, voice carrying over the murmur of the press. "And yes. The s are true. I can absorb the powers of others through their DNA."
The room erupted in shouts, questions, and the snap of cameras like gunfire. Hermes waited it out, jaw firm, hands gripping the podium until his knuckles whitened.
When the noise thinned, he continued. "Only a select few knew the truth before today. Golden Apple had no part in hiding it. They believed what the world believed... That my powers came from food, from consuming elements like fire or ice. That was my choice. My lie."
A wave of flashes. Hermes kept going.
"I was afraid. Afraid of how my teammates would look at me if they knew I could take their abilities. Afraid of being treated like a parasite instead of a partner. I didn’t want fear to poison our work. So I hid it."
The questions rose sharper now. Someone shouted: "Who knew?"
Hermes’s throat tightened. He had rehearsed this, but saying the names still scraped raw.
"Cael ’Somner’ McNamara," he said first. "My teammate in the Cloud Nine Squad. He knew."
Another voice: "Anyone else?"
Hermes swallowed. "Aphrodite Luxuria. My childhood friend and roommate. He works under the Ninth Department with me."
A hum rippled through the crowd. Hermes pushed on.
"Ymir Glace. You know him as Cryoshift. That is why I could wield ice. He trusted me with his power."
"And another friend, with fire power." His voice dipped, but he steadied it. "Their name will remain private for now."
The ers leaned in, rabid with hunger.
"And finally..." Hermes’s pulse spiked. His palms were slick against the wood. He drew a breath, chest tight, and let the words fall anyway.
"Raphael Mirasol..... who I am currently seeing."