"Y-you're the heir of the Blac Corporation!?—T-the Blac Corporation!"
Thalia's eyes widened as she exited the room, following behind Cruxius and Darithi. Her voice pitched higher with disbelief, nearly cracking on the last syllable.
She was wearing the dress they had brought for her—a floral frock that hit mid-thigh, the fabric soft but maddeningly tight across her chest. The neckline dipped lower than she would've liked, exposing more cleavage than was decent, the curves of her breasts pushing against the fabric with each breath.
Her gaze was fixed on the back of the man's head, particularly on the black hair that caught the morning light streaming through the mansion's tall windows.
"Why so shocked? Isn't this pretty common in our bloodline?" Cruxius said casually, using one hand to lift a single grey strand among his black hair—an inherited mark of mutation within his lineage.
The strand glinted silver in the light, almost ethereal against the darkness of the rest.
Mutation didn't just awaken superheroes or beasts; it also affected humans, especially those less sensitive to it.
Changes began to emerge—hair and eye colors, once naturally limited to black or blue, began shifting into shades once impossible without artificial means.
A hundred years had passed since mutation took root, and now such traits had become part of certain bloodlines.
Some people were simply born with rare features that a century ago would've been considered extraordinary.
"I took political economics as my course, not ethnology," Thalia replied, adjusting the dress that was a bit too tight in the front. She tugged at the neckline, trying to pull it up, but it only made her breasts push together more, creating a valley of soft flesh that drew the eye.
Her fingers fumbled with the fabric, cheeks flushing slightly as she realized how exposed she was.
This wasn't her type of outfit. Too revealing. Too feminine. But something was better than nothing.
She wore the floral frock dress—thigh-length and comfortable enough, with thin straps that left her shoulders bare and showed off the elegant curve of her neck. The skirt swayed with each step, brushing against her thighs in a way that made her hyper-aware of her body.
"So, you were telling me how you can do a better job. And how is that?" Cruxius inquired, glancing back toward Thalia, who had caught up to them and was now beside Darithi, who held a tablet.
His gaze lingered for just a moment on the way the dress clung to her curves before he looked away, a small smirk playing at his lips.
"I thought you were just some rich guy from the mansion's view, but now, knowing your identity, I'm definitely not letting the authorities get me for this. So let me handle it," Thalia said, voice firm despite the tremor beneath.
She felt the growing urge to leave after helping this man, then deal with her stepsister. Her fiancé—rich and manipulative—would likely interfere again.
So she just wanted to quietly join university and keep her head down until she could graduate, away from her stepmother and the chaos that came with that family.
"Fine, but what happened? Who spiked your drink though?" Cruxius asked, watching as Thalia took the tablet from Darithi and began opening torrent sites.
It wasn't the advanced hacking he expected, especially in a time where tech had become far harder to breach. Still, ignoring that, he focused on her situation.
Their past conversation was shallow—it all happened in a single day after she had taken over her family.
When he'd killed her in his previous life, he had gone through her documents to learn more. Apparently, she had earned a scholarship to a university, but the details about her family who banished her after she became pregnant with some strange pedestrian stranger—which was him—had been vague.
"I got into Vilstra Prime Institute for Political Economics. I just wanted to finally get away from my jealous stepsister and stepmother. But she spiked my drink at the fresher's party—her fiancé must've helped."
Thalia's fingers moved quickly across the screen, navigating to a site selling data from food delivery apps—data once buried in the so-called dark web but now just a click away if you knew the right address.
"He studies there too. Maybe it was to ruin my whole year, maybe just to traumatize me. Who knows," she added, her voice flat, like she'd already accepted the cruelty of it.
No matter how tight security got or how hard tracking became, the one constant was the selling of personal data.
Any tech-savvy villain could get it and sell it for a good price, depending on its value. Cruxius, aware of the site's vague address, watched as she bulk-purchased data and used AI to filter for people with matching names.
"I see. So her fiancé may disturb you again in the future, right?" Cruxius said, peeking at her tablet over her shoulder.
He stood close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with something uniquely him.
Her method was less efficient than directly accessing government ID data—which wasn't hard for the intelligence services under the Blac Corporation—but he said nothing.
He just wanted to observe her. Despite her non-technical course, she had good sense—an all-rounder.
A perfect fit for an assistant. A wife? Possibly.
But his father's conservative morals would never allow him to openly marry multiple women without consequence.
He needed to stay in the family—for now.
"Yes, he will. But doesn't matter. My dormitory is different and he—" Thalia began, just as she handed the tablet back to Darithi, only to be interrupted by Cruxius.
"You're not going to study anywhere," Cruxius said, tucking his hands in his pockets and declaring it firmly.
His tone left no room for argument.
"...What?" Thalia stopped mid-step, clearly confused. Her emerald eyes widened, then narrowed.
'...' Darithi, glancing at the tablet, placed it beside her. Best let the tech team handle it. One thing she had learned from her master—why use your own brain when you can hire others?
She paused too, watching as Cruxius turned back toward Thalia.
"I love you," he said, looking deeply into her eyes.
The words hung in the air between them—simple, direct, devastating.
"...Eh?" Thalia's mouth fell open, then twitched.
Her body was still sore—especially in the lower region—throbbing with every step, a constant reminder of what he'd done to her last night. And here he was again, spouting nonsense.
"Love my ass. You just want to use my body. Disgusting pervert," Thalia muttered, folding her arms across her chest—which only pushed her breasts up more, making them swell over the top of her dress.
She glanced toward the window. The drop was too high to jump.
She was already planning to leave—especially now, knowing who he really was. She realized she was in trouble. Serious trouble, if she had caught his interest.
Which she clearly had.
"First—yeah, I love it," Cruxius said with a shameless grin. "Second—I promise, I'll never touch you without your permission."
His voice dropped, sincerity bleeding into his tone as he locked eyes with her. Maybe his younger self had been immature, unable to understand life. But now, he knew boundaries.
Of course, there's a quote for people like Cruxius:
He might've zipped up for good, but his mind still unzips every skirt that walks by.
So complete celibacy? Impossible.