10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 75 - Manipulating Her into First Blood
She felt his hand suddenly grip the fabric of her suit at the shoulder, his fingers grazing the skin of her neck as he yanked her toward him. She gasped, spinning around until their eyes met. His gaze, however, flickered instantly to her chest, watching the way the sudden movement made the fabric of her blouse pull taut against her breasts.
’Tch, curse that bra.’ He felt a flicker of genuine irritation. The padding was thick enough to mask any detail, denying him even the slightest hint of a silhouette or the curve of a nipple against the latex-blend material of her outfit.
His expression shifted, his eyes widening as he looked back to her face—making her wonder if he truly hadn’t known. Though he was taken aback, it was by the disappointment of not seeing those two hidden "cherries"—though she interpreted his shock as innocence.
Her gaze lingered, searching his handsome features for a trace of sincerity. She just wanted clarity. Things were already complicated enough without this forced courtship hanging over them.
"What!? Are they kidding me?" Cruxius blurted out, his tone shifting to one of sheer disbelief as he grew bored of the ruse.
He immediately pulled out his phone and dialed a number. The call connected in seconds. Instead of holding it to his ear, he switched it to loudspeaker, holding the device between them.
// "Greetings, Young Master. How may I be of help to you?" //
A calm, respectful voice filled the elevator. There was no mistaking it—Ermond, the butler of the Blac family.
"Butler-in-law," Cruxius said with a half-laugh, ignoring the sharp frown Ytrisia shot him for the mocking title. "Do you know what you just did?"
// "Due to the effects of aging, I might be facing some difficulties with my memory. I would appreciate it if you would tell me exactly what I did." //
"Why did you tell Ytrisia to go on a date with me?" Cruxius said firmly, his voice laced with a controlled anger intended to shatter Ytrisia’s doubts.
’...Was he really not the one?’ To her surprise, hearing his indignation made her hesitate. From his tone, it really appeared he wasn’t the one who had pulled the strings regarding this marriage arrangement.
// "The head of the family gave strict instructions for you to date her, young master." //
The butler’s voice turned more composed, shifting into the tone one used when reminding a stubborn child of their duties.
"What the...? Has that old man gone senile?" Cruxius hissed, his jaw tightening.
// "Cough. Young master... that’s—" //
The butler sounded momentarily stunned but didn’t argue. After all the demands the head of the family made, even he had his private doubts about the man’s sanity.
"Cruxius..." Ytrisia murmured, her eyes softening as she watched the visible anger on his face.
"Why the hell would he think she could ever love me?!" Cruxius snapped, his voice cracking with a well-acted self-loathing. He played the part of the unworthy son perfectly, acting as though he knew he didn’t deserve a woman like her.
"Come on, you old men—"
Click. He cut the call, ruffling his hair in frustration and shoving the phone back into his pocket with a violent motion.
"That idiot... can’t he understand his own son is the problem?" Cruxius shook his head in mock defeat as the lift chimed, the doors slowly sliding open.
"What do you mean—" Ytrisia began, reaching out as if to comfort him. She wanted to ask why he spoke of himself as if he were inadequate, as if a future between them was a physical impossibility.
However, the opening doors revealed a nightmare.
It was a fleeting moment, her amethyst eyes widening as they landed on a bloodied, mangled figure. Behind the man, Darithi was approaching with a cold, predatory focus, while the victim tried to scramble into the safety of the elevator.
The man’s eyes met hers, then shifted to Cruxius.
"Leave me!" Alvian screamed, his head swaying from blood loss as he tried to lunged into the car. But as the doors fully retreated, he came face-to-face with the very devil who had orchestrated his downfall. His pupils dilated, pure terror seizing his heart. "—Augh!—y-you, you monster!"
Alvian’s feet stumbled, his body instinctively recoiling. However, his breath hitched when he saw the dark, devilish smirk that bloomed on Cruxius’s face. Cruxius didn’t say a word, but he leaned in slightly, his lips moving just enough for Alvian to read the taunt:
:: Idiot ::
"Argghh! I will kill you!"
Swish—
Before Ytrisia could process the transition from emotional tension to raw violence, the blood-soaked man lunged at Cruxius. His fingers were clawed, swinging wildly at Cruxius’s throat.
And Cruxius?
He had two options:
Either take the hit, play the victim, and let Ytrisia see him bleed to earn more of her pity...
Or put Alvian down permanently and pin the entire mess on Eventide’s morphing abilities.
What would he choose?"You bastard!"
Alvian launched himself forward, his bulky frame trembling with a mixture of adrenaline and terminal blood loss. One hand hung limp and useless at his side, but he swung his good arm in a desperate, wide-arcing punch. Just as the blow was about to connect, he saw Cruxius execute a light, almost mocking step back.
It was confusing—until Alvian suddenly felt the entire world tilt and swing violently.
Everything turned a dark, damp red, as if a heavy curtain of gore had been draped over his eyes.
Thud.
His skull collided with the reinforced surface of the lift with a sickening, wet crunch. He felt a hand, surprisingly small but possessed of a terrifying, supernatural strength, gripping the other side of his face.
The lift—someone had pinned him against the cold metal wall with enough force to crack the bone.
"Kurgh—"
With a final, gurgling cry, Alvian’s strength evaporated. His body went limp, sliding slowly down the blood-smeared wall to the floor of the elevator. His eyes remained open, sightless and glazed. He was dead.
"You killed him?"
Cruxius raised an eyebrow, his expression almost nonchalant, though his heart hammered against his ribs. Ytrisia stood over the body, her amethyst eyes trembling with a frantic light. Her hand, the one that had just crushed a man’s life out, was visibly shaking, the knuckles pale beneath her skin. She, a symbol of hope, had just killed a mortal.
She slowly turned toward him, her breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches that made her chest heave. Each gasp pulled her suit jacket tight, the tension outlining the soft, trembling curves of her breasts as she looked at him with a face full of horror.
"N-no, I... he would have harmed you..."
Her eyes dropped to the bloody mess of the man she now recognized as Alvian, the dean of the hospital. She had acted on pure, protective reflex. Now, the weight of the act crashed down on her, the silence of the elevator amplifying the sound of her own heartbeat.
"....."
Cruxius stood silently, observing her. He watched the way her pride seemed to crumble, her shoulders slouching as the guilt took hold. His eyes shifted down to the corpse—a mangled heap of flesh and expensive fabric. He simply shook his head. He hadn’t expected Ytrisia to be the one to finish the job, but the sheer speed of her reaction proved she was exactly what he needed.
"It’s fine," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, soothing silk.
