Loser to Legend: Gathering Wives with My Unlimited Money System Chapter 289 289: Called in Abandoned

Xavier leaned back on the couch and stared at the quest nu as the faint buzz of the cleanup drones echoing through the apartnt as they scraped what was left of Mira's parents off the floor. He took out his phone and flipped through his contacts until his eyes landed on Eleanor Von Stein. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Reva. Her na was burned into his mory. He wasn't sure if he could live without seeing Reva. He missed her quite a few tis in a day, and all the ti at night.

He opened her chat. The last ssage was short — just another string of insults. The kind of venom only she could lace into words. She, as a vampire, still couldn't believe that a normal human dominated her and made her submit to him.

Xavier chuckled under his breath and hit the call button anyway.

The line rang. Once. Twice. Five tis. No answer. He called again. On the seventh ring, the call clicked through, and her voice ca on, sharp and cold, like she'd been woken up just to be pissed.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

Xavier grinned. "It's ti for our weekly dose. You know, that ritual you always act like you hate but never skip."

Reva exhaled heavily, the irritation bleeding through. "Not in the mood," she muttered.

"Doesn't matter what your mood is," he said, voice casual but firm. "You know the deal — when one calls, the other shows. No exceptions."

There was a silence for a few seconds, as though she hadn't expected Xavier to respond like that.. The line went dead quiet, except for the faint static. Then, after a few seconds, she spoke again — her tone lower this ti, with sothing gibberish behind it.

"I'll send you the address. Co there."

The call ended.

Xavier stared at the screen for a second, then tucked the phone into his jacket. "Always so dramatic," he muttered.

Behind him, the cleanup crew finished their job, sealing biohazard crates and wiping blood off the polished floor. Ryn was wandering through the apartnt like a kid in a showroom, whistling low as he checked out the new space. Xavier stood up, rolled his shoulders, and watched as the drones faded out through the door.

He cracked his neck, glanced once more at the empty room, and thought, 'Guess it's ti to see what the 'fate' has it in for .'

Ryn stood near the entrance, hands stuffed in his pockets, seemingly having a hard ti believing that everything was happening for real.

Xavier stepped out of the apartnt, leaving Ryn behind with a sharp nod. "You can stay here if you want, but from now on? Don't expect to take responsibility for a damn thing. We're even, we don't know each other, and that's how it stays."

Xavier then left through the elevator, and Ryn followed him like a servant.

The elevator doors slid open with that soft tallic hiss, and Xavier stepped out first. Ryn followed close behind, quiet, still looking a little shaken after everything that went down upstairs.

Ryn opened his mouth, but Xavier cut him with a shrug and dismissed him. Without another word, he strode toward his bike. The city lights of Nexus Tower reflected off the polished asphalt as he swung his leg over the seat, started the engine, and felt the familiar growl under him.

He pulled out his phone, tapped the ssage Reva had sent, and the screen lit up with the address. The coordinates blinked back at him, marking a location on the outskirts of the city — a place rough, strange, off the usual grid. The streets there were notorious, half-forgotten, full of shadows and corners where trouble loved to hide.

Xavier didn't hesitate. He twisted the throttle, tires spitting gravel, and the bike shot forward.

The outskirts approached fast, twisted streets opening up like a labyrinth. But Xavier didn't care about the sll of decay, the flickering lights, or the uneven pavent. He was already moving past all that, focused only on the address glowing in his pocket.

Xavier eased the throttle, slowing the bike as the outskirts gave way to the abandoned housing society. Buildings stood like skeletons, blackened wood and rusted tal clawing at the sky. Charred remnants of walls leaned at odd angles, windows gaping like hollow eyes. The sll of smoke lingered in the air, mixed with the rot of things long forgotten.

He brought the bike to a stop on the cracked asphalt, boots crunching over glass and debris as he leaned forward. His glasses flickered on, scanning the wreckage for any signs of movent, heat signatures, anything alive. Shadows shifted with the wind through broken walls and collapsed ceilings, and for a mont, the place seed empty, silent except for the soft hiss of the wind and the distant creak of tal.

Xavier's gaze cut through the ruins. Every alley, every doorway, every rooftop — he mapped it all in seconds. He could feel tension coiling in the air, a warning that this place had teeth. Sowhere in this ruin, Reva waited, and Xavier could sense it.

The further he stepped, the more the burnt-out society seed to close in around him. Rusted gates groaned under their own weight, walls leaned like they were about to fall, and scattered rubble crunched underfoot. His instincts scread that he wasn't alone, but he moved with the patience of a predator. Every shadow, every shift in the air, was cataloged, processed, waiting for the first real sign.

And then, from the top of a half-collapsed stairwell, a figure appeared. Calm, almost casual, standing with her arms crossed.

Obviously, it was Reva.

Her expression was sharp, challenging, and that smirk — the one that could piss him off and make him grin at the sa ti — was plastered across her face.

Xavier stopped a few ters away, letting the distance stretch the tension like a wire about to snap. "You set a fancy trap," he said, voice even, low, almost amused. "Could've just called , but no — you had to make play detective in your little ruin."

Reva tilted her head, eyes glinting, shadows flickering across her features. "Detective, huh? You've got the wrong case, Xavier. I didn't trap you. I wanted to see if you'd actually co."

Xavier's hands itched at the throttle, at the jacket, at the air itself. He didn't move closer, not yet. Every instinct told him to wait, to let her make the first move, and watch. This was more than a eting — this was a test, a ga with no rules.