10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 74 - Telling Cruxius about his Family Decision
And being a certified S-rank gave her the terrifying liberty to completely flatten a few buildings, if absolutely needed.
"Hey, don’t leave me here," Cruxius said, his deep voice softening as he stretched out his large hand and caught her delicate wrist just as she began to stand.
She turned, her beautiful eyes meeting his dark ones, and paused, her breath hitching.
His handsome expression was deeply troubled—perhaps even genuinely shaken.
He was, technically, still just a fragile civilian, and after violently falling from such a terrifying height, along with what traumatically happened last time in Spain, he might truly be psychologically traumatized.
So she nodded softly, her heart aching slightly, and sat back down beside his warm body.
"Okay... but what about her?" Ytrisia asked, her chest rising. She agreed to stay close, but the lethal attack on his life still felt like a critical, unforgivable incident.
If she could hunt down and catch Eventide and violently force a confession that the Hero Association had officially acted against Cruxius, she could entirely expose their true, dark motives.
"Come on, Ytrisia. Don’t be childish. Just for a moment, think rationally," Cruxius said, shaking his head with a soft, dismissive chuckle. He appeared heavily resigned, as if utterly defeated by the corrupt world. Sliding his large, warm hand intimately over hers in secret, he added gently, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, "Do you really think the untouchable Hero Association would have blatantly attacked me in a public hospital without a perfect backup excuse ready?"
"I... I don’t get it," Ytrisia murmured, her voice husky. She felt the sudden, burning chill of his long fingers slowly interlocking intimately with hers. Though her rational mind wanted to pull away from his touch, her heart was too intensely focused on his heavy words.
"They’re most likely going to quietly kill Alvian—the corrupt dean of this hospital—and perfectly frame him as the real, intended target of the hit, not me," Cruxius explained smoothly.
He flawlessly brought the fabricated pieces together for her, completely dispelling any lingering doubt in her mind.
The ’truth’ was clear: the Hero Association aimed to eliminate the dean. And Cruxius, ruthlessly using them to his advantage, now had the absolute perfect scapegoat while subtly, entirely controlling the public narrative.
It was exactly as if the final destination had always been the pathetic Dean; he just chose the bloody path through this event to bring him intimately near Ytrisia’s vulnerable heart.
’?!’
"What? Why would—so, that’s exactly how it is..." Ytrisia whispered, her eyes widening. She wanted to desperately deny it, but the dark realization hit her hard.
The dean had been deeply involved in the terrorist attack on Channel Poggo’s headquarters. That meant the corrupt association could easily spin this entire mess into a legally justified act.
’Ah... her hands are wonderfully calloused. Might feel incredibly nice wrapped tightly around my dic...,’ Cruxius thought, darkly distracted, lazily tracing the delicate lines of her palm.
He intimately admired the contrasting softness of her palm, having already thoroughly savored her ravishing, thick body as a willing test sample in another timeline.
Still, he felt absolutely no threat from Ytrisia taking any rash, heroic action.
He had already flawlessly steered her thoughts. By now, she would likely drop any noble intent to investigate further, especially since doing so would inevitably drag a small, innocent child into the bloody mess.
And exactly as he expected, she sat quietly beside him, not resisting his intimate touch, her mind blindly following the exact path he had set for her.
’I need to stop... or else,’ Ytrisia thought, her chest tight. Her beautiful gaze drifted blankly ahead into the night.
She knew if she pushed this dark conspiracy too far, the cornered Hero Association might ruthlessly expose the child who had attacked the Poggo Channel’s headquarters—an innocent boy, manipulated by his mother’s pathetic foolishness.
That little child would be permanently labeled a supervillain.
So Ytrisia completely gave up the righteous idea of pursuing it any further. She couldn’t let an innocent life be utterly destroyed just for her revenge.
But she gulped heavily, turning her flushed face towards Cruxius to softly apologize for not being able to take bloody revenge for the brutal attack on him. She added, "I... am so sorry for—"
"Come on, Ytrisia, aren’t we close friends?"
He effortlessly, brutally friend-zoned her.
’Friends?’
A simple thought repeated itself in Ytrisia’s mind as she walked alongside Cruxius through the sterile hospital hallway. His pace was hurried, a focused stride heading toward the elevator after they had both safely landed from the hoarding board.
Behind his confident steps, she silently wondered if Darithi had already reached the perimeter of the dean’s office to secure his safety.
As they approached the lift, Cruxius stepped in first and then stood silently behind her once she entered—not a coincidence. He positioned himself just inches away, the heat radiating from his body making the small space feel even more confined.
He said nothing, and neither did she.
Ytrisia remained staring straight ahead at the brushed metal doors, her posture rigid. Behind her, Cruxius’s gaze was anything but focused on the floor. His eyes traveled downward, tracing the sharp, enticing curve of her ass, which was hugged tightly by the dark, professional fabric of her suit. The material strained slightly over her hips with every shallow breath she took, outlining the soft dip of her waist in a way that made his fingers itch.
Unbeknownst to his predatory gaze, she focused on his earlier words, unable to shake the strange, unspoken feeling they stirred.
Just that evening, she had found out he was stalking her. A few hours later, he had used his family’s influence to pressure her into going on a date. And now—just like that—he claimed they were just friends.
Something about this entire situation—or perhaps about him—was clearly off.
Standing in the confined space of the lift, the air thick with the scent of her perfume and the faint, metallic tang of the hospital, Ytrisia felt the need to address it. Maybe this was all just a misunderstanding that needed to be cleared up before the tension grew into something worse.
She turned slightly to face him. He stood calmly behind her—composed, hands in his pockets, seemingly indifferent to the fact that he’d just been attacked by a superhero.
"Cruxius, I got a call from the Blac family’s butler," Ytrisia said, turning back to the front and closing her eyes for a moment to steady her nerves.
She didn’t call the butler her godfather. Not now. That man acted more like the Blac family’s property than a father figure—always following the whims of his young master.
"Sorry? Why?" Cruxius responded casually, pretending he hadn’t been paying attention—because he definitely wasn’t.
His eyes were currently fixed on the elegant line of her spine and the way her waist narrowed into those generous hips, visually measuring the supple shape of her body. He remained seemingly oblivious, even to the mention of the Blac family and their blatant interference.
There was a faint, shark-like smirk forming on his face. As if he wanted her to bring it up, he played with her perception of his intentions, enjoying the way she struggled to read him. He was effectively blurring the lines—making her doubt her own intuition, Darithi’s warnings, and his own obvious obsession.
"...They called me to go on a date with you," Ytrisia said, her voice low, not expecting a genuine reaction.
But he gave her one. How could he miss the chance?
’!?’
