The Dreamer's POV

Dawn.

The early morning sun peeked into a magnificent and well-furnished room, its soft rays piercing the glassy windows that existed as the fragile boundary between the exterior and interior parts of the luxurious expanse.

The flashes of light intruding into the room were enough to wake the man who slept on his king-sized bed. His eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing the blue hues evident in his irises.

They were as beautiful as a clear sky, and their cool display complimented the man's utterly breathtaking features.

He was handsome, with flawless skin, and a well-toned body. His hair fluttered calmly on his head as he rose from his massive and perfectly comfortable bed.

Naked was the word to describe his elegant form striding comfortably across his vast room.

His light footsteps guided him to the mirror, where he observed his features, and rubbed his fingers on his chin while practicing his charismatic smile.

He stood in front of the wide mirror for what could be calculated as exactly thirty minutes, trying different poses and making various expressions as well as gesticulations.

Many might consider this to be narcissistic behavior, but this young man did not see it as such. As a leader who had so many followers, he had to ensure he was perfect.

Perfect in looks. Perfect in speech. Perfect… in everything.

"Looks good." He smiled, finally leaving the mirror as he headed towards the bathroom.

It was just as large as his bedroom, if not larger.

A place fit for a king.

"Now then… let us begin."

******

It took him an entire hour to complete his task in the bathroom, but by the time he was done, he appeared even better looking than he had before.

It was a marvel that such a thing was even possible.

His damp white hair was dabbed with his towel and his well-chiseled abs popped nicely while water dripped down his bare skin. He currently had his underwear on, but most of his body was still dripping with liquid as he stepped out of the bathroom.

"Oh, you're here." He said, noticing someone standing a distance from him.

It was his secretary, Lizbeth.

"Yes, Mr. Francis. Right on schedule." She said, unmoving from her position.

Except for the bow she gave him, Lizbella's state remained uncompromised. No facial reaction, no sign of anything other than her unwavering loyalty towards this man.

… Francis Baker.

"Hmm. I see. You're a bit early, but I suppose that's my fault. I spent a bit longer than usual. I suppose we'll have to make do with that." Francis walked past her, sheer confidence radiating from him with every step taken.

He marched to his wardrobe, partially ignoring the woman with glasses, as well as her secretary-like attire; a black shirt suit, and proper high-heels.

Just like a modern secretary.

"You look good, by the way. Smart, as always." Francis spoke, though his eyes weren't on her at all.

"Thank you, Mr. Francis." Her tone was curt, as expected of a professional.

Her head was bowed, so it was difficult to see what kind of expression she was making—that is, if she was making any at all.

Francis opened his wardrobe and saw a neat three-piece suit, properly ironed and hung, waiting for him. Just like every morning, everything was set.

"You may begin your daily report." He spoke, beginning to dab his moist body with his towel more as he reached out for a white vest.

All of this, without once glancing in his secretary's direction.

Lizbella fulfilled her role and began to give her report, updating her boss of all the significant events that had occured since the last time he was made aware of new information.

As the competent head of The Alliance, Francis made it his business to know everything that went on within it. However, he also employed area of specialization, dividing the labor and information exchange among distinct groups.

These groups would report directly to his secretary, who would condense all of the information she recieved and report to him.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

That made sure there was optimal use of time, allowing him to spend the rest of it on his other important affairs.

"Out of the total 121,090 of our members, both locally and in other regions, an estimate of 39,200 have completed the First Floor. We have also not suffered any casualties, though most of them used up the Items they took with them." Lizbella finally breached the topic of the First Floor.

A topic she knew Francis would comment on.

"You make it sound like good news that we're making considerable progress with the First Floor, and that we didn't lose any assets, but isn't that a matter of course?" He began, a slight frown etched on his face.

At this point, Francis had begun to put on his squaky clean white shirt, already accompanied by his black trousers.

"I already told them what to expect from the First Floor. It's been ten days, and yet a majority of our members aren't done with it. I find that to be most surprising, don't you?"

Silence circulated the room as Francis paused dressing up and glanced at his secretary for a moment. The air suddenly grew heavy with tension as his eyes lay fixatedly on her while she kept her gaze down.

"With all due respect, sir, I believe most of our members are below your standards. None of them can be compared to you, so it becomes difficult to expect certain results from them. Perhaps exercising patience with them would prove fruitful…" Those were the words Lizbella would have told Francis in response to his question.

However, after thinking about it for some time, there was only one thing she could utter.

"You are correct, sir."

That's right. Mr. Francis Baker was always right.

And that wasn't simply due to some formal hubris, or undeserved praise. It was because of his nature. All this time, he had led The Alliance as its Flawless Leader.

He was yet to fail… at least, not until recently.

"We have too many weak members. Even the Rankers we possess are those in the lower ranks. Except for that one exception, the rest of the Rankers are in the bottom tier." Francis continued his harsh critique, just as he resumed dressing up.

"This is why we need Rankers like Lucy Fer… and those other two."

Lizbella knew fully well what her boss meant. The Alliance was meant to be an elite force of survivors from Earth, and Francis' vision for it was to be the major powerhouse of those who got transported to this new world.

However, not only were they a minority, boasting less than five percent the total number of Survivors, but they also barely had six Rankers among them.

That was a little over half the total amount of Rankers, and while that would make most people satisfied, the prospect did nothing for Francis.

This was the bare minimum for him.

"Any luck tracking them? The other Rankers?" Francis asked.

"None, sir. I apologize." Lizbella shook her head while bowing once more.

As always, her tone was as polite as it was composed. Just as Francis had to be the perfect leader, she had to be his perfect secretary.

"Tch…"

Unfortunately, whether her tone was calm or not, it didn't change the fact that it was disappointing news.

And there was nothing their dear leader despised more than a lack of results.

"Everything started going off the rails when that imbecile interfered with my plans. Killing three capable Rankers… reducing our numbers… and even disrupting the goal."

Lizbella already knew who Francis was referring to. It was the only person she had ever seen him express such obvious hate and sheer disdain for.

The thorn in Francis Baker's flesh…

"Mikey Rael. I haven't forgotten you one bit. I just need to be patient. Everything will fall into place in due time…"

At this point, Francis had put on his blazer, and adjusted his tie well. With his suit properly worn, he looked like his usual self—the rich and confident leader of the future.

An invincible monolith.

"On the topic of Mikey Rael, the woman you wanted to meet with is waiting for you downstairs." Lizbella realized this news would lighten his mood, so she took the chance to report it.

And by all accounts, she was right.

"Oh? How long has she been waiting?"

"Since she was done with her mission. It's been a few hours since she's been here."

"That's great. Let's not keep her waiting any longer, yeah?" Donning his watch and putting on his ring, Francis was done dressing up.

However, instead of going to the mirror, he turned to Lizbella, his usually sharp gaze settling on her.

"So, how do I look?"

At this point, Lizbella had to raise her head and witness Francis Baker in his full outfit, witnessing him in his totality.

She didn't need to think too hard to figure out the right words to say.

"Perfect, sir."

Her words brought a much wider grin to his face, seemingly melting all the annoyance he had displayed just moments earlier.

"Lead the way, Liz. It's high time I met this 'Lisa Scofield'." Exuding so much confidence that it felt unreal, Francis took gentle strides as Lizbella went for the door.

She opened it for him, and he stepped out, his face a depiction of flawless confidence.

Nothing, and no one, was going to stand in his way.

"Let's learn more about that imbecile, Mikey."

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[A/N]

<Welcome to Arc 5: The Noble Conspiracy Arc>

The last Arc was quite short, but it revealed a bunch of things, while shrouding others in darkness. This Arc is planned to be much longer, and it involves a lot of characters, unlike the one where the MC was on a solo act.

It should be more interesting as well, so there's that.

Therefore, buckle up tight and enjoy the ride!

Thanks for reading.

Cheers!