Marcus stared at Lily, blinking through blood and disbelief. Her pussy… already stretched?
The words rattled in his skull, but all he could see was his wife—crying, trembling, clutching her dress like it was her last shield. No. He refused to believe it.
"Lies! All of it! You bastards think you can break me? My Lily is pure! My Lily is mine! Let her go!"
The thugs, however, just looked at each other and… yawned. One even scratched his balls like Marcus's outburst had bored him.
"Man, this guy," the knife-holder sneered, "he really can't think this through."
"Yeah," the ale-reeking thug nodded, blowing his breath right in Lily's ear, making her flinch. "Look at her, ripe as a peach, fat tits, thick thighs. And you—" he nudged Marcus's chest with his boot, making him collapse back to his knees, "you can't even walk straight without coughing up your lungs."
"Come on, old man. Don't you think she's got feelings too? Needs too? You really think you've been satisfying her? Hah. A flower this juicy doesn't stay untouched forever."
"Anyway, if you can't believe it. Fine. We'll just show you, eh? Eh-he-he!"
Their laughter cracked through the alley like a whip. Three filthy gazes pinned Lily to the wall again.
Her lips trembled as she looked at Marcus—frail, coughing, broken—and she shook her head. This was it. The end of her line.
She had once dreamed of living like a queen, rich fabrics and warm meals every night. No debts, no sweat, no fear.
She thought marrying a businessman like Marcus would bring that dream to life. Instead, here she was, pressed against cold brick, a knife at her hip, her husband bleeding at her feet.
Tears blurred her vision.
'This is how I go?'
And then, out of nowhere, her mind flashed to that arrogant young master. His smug grin. The way his fingers had made her body betray her.
The thought of him appearing here, saving her like some cliché romance hero, made her heart stutter.
'Why am I even thinking about him? My life is over anyway.'
It was stupid, so stupid, yet she couldn't stop. She had been thinking about him for days, every time she closed the shop door, every time she lay awake at night. And now, on the edge of ruin, he was still there in her head.
Her eyes slid shut. Her fists unclenched. Fine.
If this was the end, then so be it.
Lily felt the world mute itself as she shut her eyes. Even the filthy laughter of the thugs turned into a dull hum. This was it. The dogs were closing in.
And then—everything stopped.
Her lashes fluttered when a sound cut through the silence. A whistling. Low, sweet, almost playful. Out of place, yet sharp enough to pierce the haze.
"Who's there?!" one of the thugs barked.
She heard their voices as if underwater.
"Eh? A drunkard? What's he doing here?"
Another scoffed, "It's a drunkard, what else? Can't even walk straight. Look at him staggering."
"Yeah, blind drunk. Probably doesn't even know where the fuck he is."
"Man, what's the world coming to. Young men these days can't handle a cup of wine. Tsk. Anyway, let's rip her dress first."
Lily's body quivered at those words. Her heart clawed at her chest. She cracked her eyes open, vision blurred with tears.
There he was. A silhouette leaning against the wall, swaying like a half-dead leaf in the wind. Each step looked like he might collapse, yet he kept coming forward. Marcus was rasping, begging, his voice breaking:
"P-please… help… my wife…"
The figure didn't even lift his head. Just staggered closer, the whistling curling through the night like a mocking tune.
Lily shut her eyes again. No… this stumbling fool couldn't save her. The thugs kept cackling, their voices dripping filth, when suddenly the drunkard spoke.
"Lilies… hic~ You know where Lily's are? Hic~"
That voice? It was familiar to Lily.
The men froze for a beat.
"The hell? When did this idiot get so close?"
One thug sneered, "Oi, old man, go home. You'll trip over your own puke. This is a dangerous alley."
But the drunkard just wobbled forward, holding out a bunch of weeds and herbs in his shaky hands.
"Lily's… hic~ need Lily's. Look… hic~ medicinal. Good for cough… hic~"
The thugs groaned in unison.
"Medicinal herbs? What the fuck—are you serious right now?"
"Man, piss off! Take your flowers and shove them up your ass. We're busy treating this lady here."
One thug shoved him in the chest. The drunkard didn't budge. Didn't even blink. He just slowly turned his head, his shadowed eyes lifting. For the first time, his gaze fell directly on Lily.
Her breath hitched. Teary eyes widened. Her throat locked up—she couldn't even call his name. All she could do was tremble, choking on half-formed words.
"It's not nice… hic~ to treat a lady like this. Hic~ Lady's should be—hic~"
"Fuck off!"
One of the thugs booted him right in the ass. The drunkard toppled forward, face-planting hard into the dirt. His bundle of herbs and weeds scattered everywhere like trash in the wind.
"My Lily! My Lily!"
The man scrambled on all fours, pawing at the ground like a desperate fool. The thugs doubled over in laughter.
"Haw haw haw! Look at him, crying over weeds!"
"Hey, don't step on his flowers, might hurt his feelings!"
But then, the drunkard's hand stopped. Fingers closed around a single wild sprig with a small violet bloom.
Silence. His shoulders shook. Then…
"Pfff… ahahaha… AHAHAHA!"
The thugs blinked at each other.
"This idiot's got loose screws."
"Yeah, broken drunk with flowers. What's next, he gonna sing us a lullaby?"
The laugh wasn't because of nothing, it wasn't because of finding the very flower he was looking for too.
It was because the drunkard suddenly heard a sound inside his mind.
A sound he was looking for since he transmigrated to this world.
[Ding! System initiation complete]
[Yo Boss, this humble disciple is truly sorry for being so late. But do not worry, everything is alright now that I am here]
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[A/N - Our boy finally got the one treasure he was looking for!]