Luke immediately recalled the conditions Esdeath wanted for her partner.
Great potential. That one hurt the most. He had too much of it — so much that even he didn't fully understand what he had become. And after this fight, she clearly knew it too.
Fearless and bold. He hadn't hesitated once in the fight. Not when time froze. Not when a blade pierced his heart. He treated death like an inconvenience.
That alone probably sealed his fate.
Then came the last part.
Pure. Honest. A bright smile.
Luke almost sighed internally.
Pure? Not a chance.
Honest? Only when it suited him.
Bright smile? …Yeah, okay, that one was on him.
Talking about saving the planet. Drawing lines.
Acting like some kind of moral anchor.
He really shouldn't have said any of that. It probably gave her the completely wrong idea—like he was some pure-hearted hero instead of a guy just trying to keep things from blowing up.
There goes my peaceful life straight down the drain, Luke thought, glancing sideways at the woman currently hugging his neck like she'd already made up her mind.
Judging by how comfortable she looked—
She clearly had.
And that realization scared him more than the fight ever did.
"Umm… yeah, no," Luke said flatly. "I don't think I can be yours. I already have three lovers."
It was the truth—and more importantly, it was an attempt to draw a clear line. He wasn't stupid enough to invite a walking catastrophe into his life. Being involved with her wasn't romance; it was signing up for mutually assured destruction.
For a brief moment, Esdeath froze.
Then she let go of him.
Luke almost relaxed—almost—until she stepped forward again, closing the distance deliberately. She leaned in, her face just an inch from his, her presence overwhelming.
Her chest pressed lightly against him, close enough that there was no mistaking it, close enough that it was clearly intentional.
Her lips curved into a smile that wasn't sweet in the slightest.
"You refuse me?" she asked softly. "That just makes you more interesting. More desirable."
Her eyes glittered with excitement rather than anger.
"It makes me want to possess you even more."
Luke didn't flinch. "Nope."
The smile didn't fade.
Instead, her tone turned casual—too casual.
"What if I kill the three you love?" she asked, as if suggesting a minor inconvenience.
That was it.
That single sentence confirmed everything Luke already knew.
This was exactly why he didn't want her anywhere near his life. She didn't understand boundaries. She didn't value lives. To her, people were either strong enough to stand beside her… or disposable.
Getting involved with her wasn't like inviting trouble.
It was like hugging a black hole.
You never knew when it would pull everything you cared about in and erase it.
"Before you even think about touching them," Luke said calmly, eyes cold, "I'll make sure you lose your hands."
There was no bluff in his voice. No anger. Just certainty.
Esdeath didn't pull away.
She laughed.
A soft, pleased sound slipped from her lips as she raised one finger and slowly traced it along Luke's cheek, following the line of his jaw with deliberate care.
"Hehehe…"
Her smile widened—not offended, not threatened. Genuinely delighted.
"Oh, I like that," she said. "Protective. Decisive. Willing to threaten me without hesitation."
Her finger rested under his chin, just enough to hold his attention.
"Most men beg when I say things like that," Esdeath said evenly. "Their voices shake. Their eyes avoid mine."
"I wonder," she continued, almost thoughtfully, "what it would be like if I were in their position."
It wasn't mockery. It was curiosity.
In her view, strength decided everything. If a partner died, they were weak. Weakness was discarded. That was how the world worked.
So why protect them?
Is love actually different?
Luke didn't look away.
"To understand that," he said, "you'd have to understand other people's emotions. Not judge them. Not test them."
Esdeath considered his words.
"Then," she said after a brief pause, "teach me."
"What?" Luke asked, genuinely caught off guard.
Teach this woman about love?
A psychopath who treated affection like conquest and ownership? That sounded like volunteering to wrestle a natural disaster.
He exhaled and refocused. This line of conversation clearly wasn't going anywhere useful right now.
"Fine," Luke said. "But before that—tell me how you even ended up in this world."
Esdeath didn't hesitate. "I don't know. One day, a voice appeared in my head. After that, my power kept growing. Then I realized I could move between worlds."
Luke frowned. "So you came here on your own?"
"Yes."
That ruled out another transmigrator.
Which somehow made things more confusing.
A sudden cold pressure brushed his neck.
Luke froze and looked down. A thin chain of ice had wrapped itself loosely around his throat. His gaze snapped back to Esdeath—she was holding the other end, calm and expectant.
"You think I'm a dog you can put on a leash?" Luke snapped.
The ice chain evaporated instantly, burned into harmless mist by a pulse of heat.
Esdeath didn't flinch. She smiled instead.
"If I decide something is mine," she said simply, "I don't rest until I take it. And right now, I want you."
Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not how this works. If you like someone, you don't chain them. That just makes them annoyed."
She tilted her head, genuinely puzzled. "Then how do you make someone yours?"
As Luke was about to say something, a faint sense of unease crept in—the feeling that he was missing something important.
He froze.
"…Wait."
He opened his inventory.
The scepter was still there.
Without it, there was no way to shut down the portal.
"Oh, fuck," Luke muttered.
Esdeath had just started to react when the air around Luke detonated. He shot straight upward, leaving behind a sharp sonic boom that rippled across the frozen sea.
In the blink of an eye, he was already a streak of light tearing toward New York, urgency written into every movement.
***
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