Leon kicked the brown door with all his strength.
BANG!
The deafening impact shook the room. The hinges screamed as the door was blown open, slamming violently against the wall.
For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze.
Leon's eyes widened.
A young man about his age stood near the bed, shirtless.
And on that bed—
Sofia.
Lying there, wearing nothing but a bra. Her upper body slightly raised, eyes unfocused.
Leon's world shattered.
This wasn't a hallucination.
It was real.
Slowly, his gaze shifted back to the man.
That face.
That hair.
That presence—
Far too familiar.
"You… Lucas!!!"
"Surprise," Lucas replied casually.
Before Leon could react, Lucas tossed a small object toward him, a spider-shaped device forged from black metal.
Leon caught it instinctively, gripping it without thinking. As if a mere spider would scare him.
At the very last second, his instincts screamed a warning.
Too late.
Boom!
The spider detonated.
There was almost no sound, but the explosion was terrifying. Black flames erupted, devouring the room in heat and fury.
Leon's body was hurled backward, smashing into the wall behind him.
Agony exploded through his back. The concrete wall cracked and splintered, jagged fragments tearing into his flesh. Warm blood slid down his sides.
His hands were mangled, fingers shredded and dripping blood. Smoke curled from his jacket, the fabric scorched and melting at the edges.
He coughed violently, every breath searing his lungs.
It hurt.
It hurt badly.
But before he could even recover...
Heavy footsteps thundered across the floor.
Lucas charged forward.
A dagger flashed in his hand, gleaming like a silver fang under the dim light.
Stab!
"Arghh!"
The blade sank deep into Leon's chest. Blood sprayed out, soaking his ruined shirt.
Lucas didn't stop.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The dagger plunged repeatedly into Leon's body, tearing through flesh, cracking against bone, breaking ribs.
Each strike sounded like raw meat being carved apart by a dull knife.
Then—
The dagger went for Leon's neck.
With the last remnants of strength in his trembling body, Leon managed to block it. Their hands clashed, faces inches apart, breath mixing with heat and blood.
Suddenly—
Something beneath Leon's clothes began to glow.
A faint light pulsed from his chest, growing brighter with every second.
Lucas's eyes widened.
Without hesitation, he yanked the dagger free and grabbed the necklace around Leon's neck—a golden pendant radiating light.
"NOOOO!" Leon roared, his voice hoarse with fury.
The pendant erupted.
Brilliant golden light flooded the room, blinding and scorching. The temperature spiked instantly, as if invisible flames had ignited the air itself.
Lucas leapt back, shielding his eyes. His skin burned as he waited for the light to fade.
When he finally opened his eyes, his vision swam, black spots dancing across his sight.
Then it cleared.
Leon was gone.
Only the pendant remained.
It rested in his palm, warm, pulsing gently like a living heartbeat. The stone had turned gray-black, faintly glowing.
This was the reason Leon vanished.
An ancient relic—capable of teleporting its bearer far away.
But more than that…
Hidden within this pendant was a secret.
A secret so absurd that even common sense would reject it.
Lucas grinned, breathing hard, his body trembling with exhaustion, and exhilaration.
"This is mine now," he muttered, his voice low, almost demonic.
Then, louder—
"And more importantly… I'm alive!"
Without wasting time, he stored the pendant inside his spatial ring.
Moments later, hurried footsteps echoed from the hallway.
A middle-aged man in his mid-thirties rushed in.
"Young master, are you alright?" His voice was thick with worry as his eyes swept across the room, blood-soaked floor, cracked walls, scorched marks everywhere.
His expression darkened with regret. "Forgive me, young master. I failed to protect you."
He immediately dropped to one knee.
Lucas exhaled slowly.
This man was one of the bodyguards assigned to him tonight.
"I'm fine," Lucas replied.
Then his expression sharpened.
"Where's uncle Garran?" he asked.
"I don't know, young master," the man answered.
Lucas frowned.
Garran was a bodyguard personally assigned by his father. Yet he was nowhere to be found when Lucas nearly died.
The original plot surfaced in his mind.
"Tch… fine." Lucas waved his hand. "Stand up. Guard the door. Wait for my signal."
"Yes, young master."
The man rose immediately and took position at the doorway, eyes sharp and vigilant.
He had made a grave mistake tonight.
He would not repeat it.
Lucas stepped back into the room.
He stood there quietly, one hand stroking his chin as his gaze settled on Sofia, who was still lying unconscious on the bed.
"Now," Lucas murmured softly,
"what should I do with you?"
He had escaped death. He had broken free from the fate written for him.
But survival was only the first step.
What came next mattered even more.
Returning Sofia to her family?
That was clearly not a good option.
Then his eyes shifted to the side of the bed.
There, a young boy, around fifteen years old, lay unconscious on the floor. His body was bound, his mouth tightly covered.
Alex Valemont.
The true collateral of tonight's events.
Lucas stared at him for a long moment.
A thought slowly took shape.
The corners of Lucas's lips lifted into a sly, calculating grin.
"That…" he murmured quietly,
"…could work."