Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System-Chapter 81: Shadows Beneath the Golden Angel

Shadows Beneath the Golden Angel

Fortunately, at that moment, a black Maybach rolled smoothly to a stop in front of them.

The engine purred softly as the car glided to a halt outside the West City Police Station, its polished body reflecting the pale streetlights. Headlights washed over the pavement, stretching long shadows across the entrance steps.

For a brief second, everything felt oddly still.

Then the rear door opened with quiet elegance—

And Mike Valquin stepped out.

He moved quickly, like someone who had come in a hurry. His blonde hair was slightly messy, strands falling over his forehead as if he had run his hand through it too many times on the drive over. His blue eyes swept across the scene with casual curiosity at first—

Then they stopped.

Completely.

He blinked once.

Looked again.

Julian D’Aurelius stood there.

And both of his arms were occupied.

Selena Aurevale clung to his left arm, her posture unusually soft for someone known across Valemont’s elite circles for her cold pride. On the other side, Bianca De Dominicis held his right arm, leaning just close enough to make the situation look... dangerously suspicious.

Mike’s mouth slowly opened.

He stared.

Then blinked again like his brain had just short-circuited.

"Damn, bro... what’s this...?"

The words came out slowly, like a man trying to process something that absolutely refused to make sense.

Selena Aurevale on the left. Bianca De Dominicis on the right.

Two of the proudest women in Valemont’s elite circle.

Clinging to his brother’s arms.

Mike lifted a hand and rubbed both of his eyes dramatically, dragging his palms down his face like he was rebooting his vision.

"I didn’t drink tonight," he muttered, glancing back at the Maybach as if it might confirm his sanity. "I swear I didn’t."

His gaze returned to the trio.

Still the same scene.

Still the same impossible picture.

He pointed slowly at Julian.

"Either I’m hallucinating... or my little brother just pulled off something legendary."

Julian nearly choked.

He forced out an awkward smile that looked painfully stiff.

"They’re playing Truth or Dare," he said quickly. "I drew the dare. They had to hug me. Don’t overthink it."

Selena’s brows twitched.

Bianca snorted softly.

"Really?" Mike’s eyes gleamed with mischievous amusement. As a veteran of the nightlife, he knew exactly what was going on. "Truth or Dare at a police station? That’s a new level, bro."

He stepped closer and lowered his voice.

"You’ve upgraded."

Julian glared at him.

Mike then cleared his throat and asked more seriously, "You okay? I heard something happened at Lunar Citadel."

"No worries," Julian replied calmly. "I sold it a few days ago."

Mike let out a breath. "Good. Bro, you’re always lucky. Let’s go have a drink to celebrate."

He casually slung an arm around Julian’s shoulder—

Then froze.

Because two death glares landed on him simultaneously.

Selena’s icy stare.

Bianca’s warning glare.

They both still remembered the last time Mike dragged Julian to MoonDrift Club.

Bianca subtly made a throat-slitting gesture with her finger.

Selena didn’t move—

But her gaze alone could freeze lava.

Mike felt cold sweat slide down his back.

Get lost, both of you vixens, he thought silently.

He didn’t dare say it out loud.

"Uh... maybe not tonight," he coughed. "Rest is important. Health first. Youth wellness program."

After a few more pointed looks from both women, they finally released Julian and said their goodbyes—though not without subtle territorial glances.

Once they were gone—

Julian immediately lit a cigarette.

He inhaled deeply.

Finally.

Air.

Mike squatted beside him, chuckling.

"Bro... your luck with women is ridiculous."

"You think this is good?" Julian snapped irritably.

He blew smoke out slowly.

As a villain who wanted to survive until the end—

Low profile was survival.

Attention was death.

Mike just grinned.

He absolutely thought it was good.

After finishing his cigarette, Julian stood, exhaustion finally surfacing in his eyes.

"If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back. We’ll drink another time. I’ve been exhausted lately. Nightmares every day."

Mike nodded, expression softening.

"Alright. Get some rest."

There was something genuine there.

Julian felt a flicker of warmth.

This guy rushed here the moment he heard trouble.

Brotherhood still meant something.

Just as he was about to leave—

He stopped.

Turned.

"You said you’ve been having nightmares? Not sleeping well?"

Mike sighed.

"Yeah. No idea why. Maybe kidney deficiency."

Julian’s expression darkened slightly.

"Take a few days off. Go somewhere quiet. Relax."

"Forget it," Mike waved dismissively. "Too lazy. I’ll just sleep it off."

He got back into the Maybach.

The car disappeared into the night. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

----------------

Julian returned to his own car and lit another cigarette.

He already knew the reason.

This was part of the original storyline.

The Valquin household’s crisis arc.

Mike’s discomfort wasn’t medical.

It was Black Magic.

A week ago, Mike had purchased something he thought was a blessing—

A Golden Angel status statue.

On the surface, it was radiant.

Carved from polished gold-toned jade. Serene face. Halo behind its head. Hands pressed in prayer.

But inside—

It was hollow.

And in that hollow cavity—

Evan had embedded a cursed talisman.

Black Magic.

Not the cheap, superstitious kind.

This was structured corruption.

Julian remembered the original description clearly.

The talisman carved runes in reverse spiral formation—symbols meant to invert fortune. Instead of drawing prosperity inward, it expelled it. Instead of stabilizing energy, it fractured it.

The Golden Angel looked holy.

But inside—

There was a sealed charm soaked in blood ink.

Threads of dark resentment.

Tiny shards of bone dust.

Once placed within a household, it slowly poisoned the surrounding energy field.

The Valquin mansion had once been aligned with favorable geomancy—good airflow, balanced layout.

But once the Golden Angel was installed in the main hall—

Everything inverted.

Warm spaces became cold.

Family members grew restless.

Sleep turned shallow.

Nightmares began.

Black Magic works subtly.

It doesn’t strike immediately.

It rots.

Slowly.

By the time the symptoms become obvious—

The roots are already deep.

In the original plot, as the Valquin household spiraled into panic—

Evan would step in like a savior.

He would "discover" the problem.

Destroy the cursed statue.

Restore the energy flow.

And instantly earn absolute trust.

The Valquin patriarch would treat him like a divine envoy.

And Gwen Valquin—

The proud eldest daughter—

Would begin to fall for him.

Classic urban fantasy formula.

Crisis.

Savior.

Gratitude.

Beauty.

Power.

Reward.

Julian exhaled slowly.

"This damn plot..."

He flicked ash out the window.

He could already see the script unfolding.

And then—

The familiar mechanical voice sounded in his mind.

"Ding. The host has successfully survived the West City Police Station plot."