10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 83- Control Cruxius... Control
Within the main estate of the Blac family, the air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and the silent tension of a shifting power dynamic. Dozens of sleek, armored cars belonging to diplomats, board members, and officials from various continents now choked the sprawling drive. The sheer scale of the gathering made it clear: the event that had transpired was a tectonic shift in the underworld and political spheres alike, demanding immediate, face-to-face damage control.
Even so, these men of power waited. They knew that to navigate the coming storm, they first needed to pay homage to the head of the Blac family.
The mansion itself—a seamless merger of sleek modernity and the heavy, ornate stone of old nobility—stood as a monument to the late mistress’s refined taste. It remained dignified amidst the commotion, a silent witness to the chaos.
Down one of the wide, marble-floored hallways, Raekin Blac walked with a heavy, measured stride. He was followed closely by a small army of lawyers and subsidiary representatives, their leather folders clutched like shields.
"What did he take?" Raekin asked, his voice a low, gravelly hum as he raised a file. His butler, Ermond, kept a perfectly steady pace beside him, guiding the group toward the grand hall where the delegates sat in agitated silence, desperate for an explanation for the mounting body count.
"The young master appears to have taken the late mistress’s necklace, sir," Ermond replied, his posture impeccable.
As they walked, Ermond recalled the call they had received from Cruxius only hours prior. The young master hadn’t just reported in; he had dictated a series of geopolitical maneuvers so precise they bordered on prophetic. His suggestions for handling the diplomatic fallout were remarkably thorough—aligning almost perfectly with the strategies suggested by the family’s top-tier think tanks.
There were only slight modifications, mostly where Cruxius had accounted for the murky internal power struggles within the involved nations—details even the experts had missed. Ermond had cross-verified these points through his own deep-cover intelligence sources. It was becoming clear: the ’playboy’ heir wasn’t just interested in geopolitics; he was mastering them.
"...I see," Raekin murmured. He came to a halt before the massive double doors of the main hall.
He stared at the intricate carvings, a sudden, heavy realization settling in his chest. His son had grown—not just in height, but in a cold, calculating wisdom that mirrored the weight of the family name. Raekin felt a strange mixture of pride and a weary sense of relief. Perhaps the burden was finally ready to be passed. Perhaps he could finally retire.
He was tired—mentally, emotionally, and physically. The mention of his late wife’s jewelry had stirred a dormant ache in his soul. He placed a hand to his forehead, wincing as a sharp headache bloomed—a rhythmic throb that echoed the helplessness he’d felt on the day she was taken from him. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞
To the world, Raekin Blac was a titan. He was the head of the Blac Corporation, a name synonymous with twenty percent of the world’s circulating wealth. But Raekin knew the truth behind the curtain.
’He who controls the money controls the nation... but money is a fickle god,’ he thought bitterly. In the face of the truly illogical forces of the world, money was just printed paper, and those who worshipped it were merely ants dressed in silk. He held the fortune of the world in his palms, yet he hadn’t dared to avenge his wife, fearing the cost to his only son.
But now, after seeing the cold, strategic cruelty Cruxius was capable of, a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. Had he been protecting a lion cub he thought was a house cat?
’I just hope you don’t walk the path of revenge against those people... son.’
Far away, near the borders of Hero City, a fleet of obsidian-black luxury cars cut through the midnight air like silent predators.
"Umh... huh?"
Inside the lead car, Thalia stirred. Her emerald eyes fluttered open, blinking against the soft, ambient glow of the interior lights. As the haze of sleep lifted, her heart skipped a beat. This wasn’t her hotel. The gentle vibration of tires on asphalt and the scent of expensive leather confirmed her nightmare: she was in a moving vehicle.
’Wait... the bathroom... he...!’
"Y-you PERVERT!" Thalia shrieked, her voice echoing in the confined space. She glared at Cruxius, her face instantly turning a deep, vivid crimson. The memories of the bathroom—the heat, the way his hands felt, the sheer audacity of his touch—surged back with a clarity that made her skin tingle.
"...Not like you’re any better," Cruxius muttered, leaning back into the plush upholstery. He didn’t even look at her at first, his attention fixed on a blood-red ruby locket he was twirling between his fingers. The stone was raw, jagged, and seemed to pulse with a dark light of its own.
"Wh-what?" Thalia stammered, her breath hitching. She squirmed in her seat, feeling a sudden, frantic need to check herself. Her hands flew to her chest and waist. She was fully clothed, but the memory of her own nakedness under his gaze was like a brand on her mind.
Her thin blouse felt suddenly too tight, the fabric clinging to her skin as she trembled. The cool air of the car’s AC caused the silhouettes of her nipples to press subtly but firmly against the material of her top—a detail Cruxius didn’t miss as his eyes finally drifted toward her.
"Are you alright?" he asked. His voice held a note of genuine concern, a mask so perfect it was impossible to tell that his heart remained as cold as ice.
"...Yes. Why does it even matter to you?" Thalia snapped, though her bravado was shaking. She could hear the muffled whispers of the other women in the car, their eyes darting between her and the infamous heir. To her, he was the apex of shamelessness—a man who collected women like trophies. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide her agitation, but it only served to emphasize her curves.
"It matters because Father said he wants to meet you," Cruxius replied simply.
His plans had shifted. Since these women retained their memories of the ’incidents,’ he couldn’t play the long game of subtle manipulation anymore. He needed to move fast before the remaining woman he’d crossed could complicate things.
"Eh? Who?" Thalia flinched, her emerald eyes wide and confused.
"The head of the Blac family wants to meet you," Cruxius added, watching her internalize the weight of that statement.
"F-for what?!" Thalia demanded. Her mind was reeling. One moment she was being treated like a plaything in a hotel bathroom, and the next, she was being summoned by the most powerful man in the corporate world?
"For marriage, of course." Cruxius offered a small, predatory smile.
The reaction was instantaneous. Rage, hot and explosive, bubbled up in Thalia’s throat.
"First the son, and now even the father!? Tell that old basta—mmph!"
Before she could finish the insult, Cruxius lunged forward. His hand clamped over her mouth, his palm warm against her lips. The sudden proximity was electric; she could smell the faint scent of sandalwood on him, and her muffled protests vibrated against his skin.
"Stop, you idiot," Cruxius hissed, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in close enough for her to see the flecks of gold in his pupils. "I meant our marriage."
"Heh? WHATTT!???"
Even with his hand sealing her lips, the shock was audible. Her emerald eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets. Cruxius felt a vein pulse in his forehead as he felt her warm, frantic breath against his hand. He felt the urge to tighten his grip, to teach her a lesson for her lack of restraint, but he forced himself to stay still.
’Control, Cruxius... not yet... not yet....’
