The Aftermath Beneath the Silent Roadside Trees
"What’s your na?"
A stillness held Julian D’Aurelius as daylight thinned. Dust hung in the air, lifted minutes ago by shouts and motion. A soft wind tugged at his dark hair. His gaze - sharp, gold-colored - did not leave the figure bent low ahead. Silence stretched between them.
The captured assassin swallowed.
His throat moved nervously as if the simple act of speaking required imnse courage.
His voice trembled.
"I... I’m Hemil."
The man spoke softly, almost like a defeated animal forced to lower its head before a predator.
Hemil answered quietly.
In front of this powerful man, the will to resist had already collapsed within him.
A dull knife against a war blade.
A weak horse trying to outrun a thunderstorm.
How could he possibly fight soone like this?
Julian’s body suddenly trembled slightly.
His brows tightened.
Damn... it actually matches?
His mind raced rapidly.
This fucking plot is getting ridiculous.
Characters who weren’t even supposed to appear yet are showing up early?
And worse—
mbership belonged to them within the Obsidian Wing group.
Breathing deep, Julian counted each second inside his head. Dust hung in the air, mixed with sothing green far off, settling into his chest. His mind started sorting pieces again.
One thought knocked into the next, each toppling faster than before.
A flick of his fingers broke the quiet air. His palm lifted, slow then sure.
"Take them to the police station."
He sounded laid-back, like he could care less.
"Lock them up first. Investigate later."
"Y-Yes, Young Master D’Aurelius!"
Timur and his son Jareb answered imdiately.
The father and son looked at Julian with even deeper admiration than before.
To them, the scene had already transford into sothing legendary.
A hidden master.
A true powerhouse who could easily crush his enemies... yet chose restraint.
Facing assassins who had just tried to kill him, he still refused to take private revenge.
A true expert.
Not only powerful.
But disciplined.
After Timur and Jareb dragged the four exhausted mbers of the Scythe Division away, the roadside slowly fell silent again.
Julian turned his head.
His gaze fell on another body.
Ammy D’Aurelius.
Still lying on the ground.
Still unconscious.
The ambush had knocked him out cold.
The Scythe Division had struck him hard on purpose to clear his na.
They hadn’t held back.
Julian stared at him for two seconds.
Then the corners of his lips slowly curved upward.
"Perfect opportunity."
A grin appeared.
Then Julian rushed forward.
And began punching.
And kicking.
Hard.
"Bam!"
"Thud!"
"Smack!"
Since the guy was already unconscious, why bother being polite?
Julian stomped once more into Ammy’s side.
"Bullying the weak and fearing the strong... that’s my specialty."
He muttered cheerfully while delivering another kick.
Ammy’s face had already swollen badly, blood staining his nose and lips.
But Julian had absolutely no intention of killing him.
Why eliminate your enemy’s pig teammate?
That would just make things harder later.
After several minutes of beating, Julian finally stopped.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and stretched his shoulders.
"Ah... that felt good."
Ammy D’Aurelius now looked utterly miserable.
Bruised.
Bloody.
Completely unrecognizable.
Julian whistled lightly, grabbed the man by his collar, and dragged him across the gravel road toward his car.
A mont later the engine started.
The sleek car disappeared down the road.
----------
Not long after Julian left...
A figure dropped silently from a nearby tree.
Leaves rustled softly as Lina Ashford landed lightly on the ground.
She had been watching the entire ti.
Hidden in the branches.
Her long green hair flowed down her back like silk, the strands shimring faintly under the pale moonlight. Her purple eyes still carried shock.
Her slim body was wrapped in a tight black dress that hugged her curves.
The outline of her full F-cup breasts pressed against the fabric.
Her narrow waist curved into wide, soft hips and a round, firm ass.
Her long legs stretched elegantly beneath the dress, the thick thighs powerful yet graceful.
She looked like temptation itself.
Yet right now...
Her expression was stunned.
She knew the strength of the Scythe Division far too well.
Those four were peak Iron Realm Old Martial Arts experts.
Even she would struggle to fight them together.
Yet they had attacked Julian for five whole minutes.
And couldn’t even scratch him.
Her breathing grew slower.
"...Gold Realm..."
She whispered softly.
Only soone in the Gold Realm could ignore attacks like that.
Her cheeks slowly ward.
She suddenly understood sothing.
"...So that’s why Young Master Julian kept around."
Her voice softened.
"He already knew who I was."
If he wanted her dead...
He could have killed her anyti.
Instead...
He let her stay.
Her heart began beating faster.
A blush slowly spread across her cheeks.
"Could it be..."
"...he likes ?"
The thought alone made her face burn. Heat rushed up her neck and settled across her cheeks until they glowed a soft pink. For a mont she simply stood there, frozen with the realization, her heart beating a little faster than it should.
Her fingers unconsciously touched her Breast.
Her soft breasts lifted slightly under her hands.
She blinked, suddenly aware of what she was doing, but the motion had already happened. Her palms rested there for a second longer than they should have before she drew in a quiet breath.
Then she rembered sothing Julian had once joked about in his thoughts.
He liked won with big breasts.
The mory surfaced so suddenly that Lina froze again.
Lina looked down at her own chest.
Her cheeks turned even redder.
Her blouse stretched slightly across the soft curve of her boobs, rising and falling with her breathing. She stared for a mont, as if seeing her own body from a stranger’s perspective.
"I... I do have them..."
Her voice was barely more than a whisper, shy and uncertain.
Her lips trembled slightly as her thoughts wandered sowhere dangerous—sowhere embarrassing.
"If... if Young Master Julian asked to help him bathe soday..."
Her body heated further.
Just imagining the situation made warmth spread through her stomach and down her spine. Her mind painted the scene too vividly: steam rising from warm bath water, the quiet intimacy of the mont, the closeness.
"I wouldn’t refuse..."
The words slipped out before she even realized she had spoken.
Her imagination betrayed her.
In her mind she could almost see herself leaning close to him in warm bath water... helping scrub his back... her soft breasts brushing lightly against his shoulders.
She imagined the warmth of the water against her skin, the quiet echo of the bath chamber, the way Julian might glance back at her with that calm expression of his.
Her breathing grew uneven.
Her thighs rubbed together slightly.
"I might even..."
Her voice beca extrely quiet.
"...let him feel them."
Her face turned completely red.
She covered her burning cheeks with both hands, mortified by her own thoughts. Even the tips of her ears had turned red.
For a mont she stood there, fighting the storm of emotions rushing through her.
After a mont she shook her head violently.
"Stop thinking like that!"
She squeezed her eyes shut and took a few quick breaths, trying to calm herself.
Still...
The blush remained.
Even when she lowered her hands, the warmth on her face refused to disappear. Her heart was still racing, and she refused to look down again at the soft curve of her chest—or the subtle sway of her hips and ass as she shifted nervously.
"...What am I even imagining..."
She muttered it under her breath, embarrassed with herself.
Then she quietly disappeared into the forest shadows.
------
anwhile.
Julian had already reached the hospital.
Ammy D’Aurelius was imdiately rushed into the ergency room.
After briefly explaining the situation to his second uncle’s family over the phone, Julian returned to his car.
The hospital parking lot was quiet.
He leaned against the door and lit a cigarette.
Smoke drifted slowly into the night air.
Julian frowned.
"Damn plot..."
"It’s getting weirder and weirder."
He exhaled smoke.
Then he spoke aloud.
"Shitty System, what’s going on now?"
"Why are characters appearing early?"
A chanical voice responded.
"Beep... the plot has collapsed. Please be cautious, host."
Julian frowned even deeper.
"Plot collapse?"
"What about the future?"
When the plot lost control...
That was when the real danger began.
But the Tyrant System suddenly went silent.
No response.
At that exact mont—
Strange images flashed through Julian’s mind.
One.
Two.
Three.
Hundreds.
Each image showed his death.
Different locations.
Different killers.
Different endings.
His head suddenly throbbed violently.
"Ghh—!"
Julian clutched his temple.
A glowing red number appeared before his eyes.
299
Just as he tried to focus on the mory—
Everything vanished.
His expression suddenly beca blank.
His mory rolled backward.
Returning to a mont just minutes earlier.
The visions disappeared completely.
Julian blinked in confusion.
"Shitty System, where’s my reward?"
He cursed irritably.
Completely unaware of what had just happened.
"Beep. Reward delivered."
The system responded.
But this ti...
Its voice sounded weak.
Very weak.
Julian frowned.
"???"
He checked himself.
No new skills.
No items.
Nothing appeared.
"Delivered?"
"Delivered where?"
"To whom?"
Julian cursed for several minutes.
"Shitty System, are you screwing over with the reward?!"
But the system remained silent.
Ignoring him completely.
-------
Far away from Valemont...
A cargo plane roared across the dark sky.
Inside its storage hold sat a small sealed package.
The sender’s na written clearly on the label.
Julian D’Aurelius.
The destination:
Africa.
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