"I was wrong, I was wrong! I'll never speak ill of Lord Motley again—please give me a chance. I can offer half my family's assets." The young man trembled all over.
He'd never imagined that, while drinking with friends and bragging, he'd say that if Motley weren't the Bright King's little brother, the guy would be nothing.
Less than an hour after those words left his mouth, they reached the very person in question.
Now, staring at the silent, icy-eyed Motley, his face drained of color—his already pale complexion turning whiter.
"Kill him," Motley suddenly ordered.
At his command, the two Bodyguards pinning the youth hauled him toward the exit.
"Lord Motley, I was wrong—please spare—" Before he could finish, a Bodyguard stuffed a cloth into his mouth.
He was dragged out, muffled whimpers echoing.
Motley watched coldly; he hated anyone mentioning his brother or himself.
"Young Master Motley, since that's settled, let's keep drinking." A blonde in a white dress approached with a glass.
"Exactly, let's drink—don't let some ingrate ruin the night." The crowd raised their glasses, fawning.
Motley knew they only fawned because of his brother's status.
'If only I could become an Awakened—Level Four would be enough, even if not Level Five.'
The thought haunted him as he clinked glasses with the others.
Outside the bar, Lei Xiangchen and Han Qi stood with a third man.
Wei Gaochen glanced at Lei Xiangchen: "He's inside—do we just march in and shove the flesh down his throat?"
"Why so crude?" Han Qi cut in before Lei Xiangchen could reply.
Lei Xiangchen pulled out his phone; a subordinate had messaged him.
[Cadre Lei—cameras and street-side Awakened positions mapped. Coordinates below.]
"We go straight in. I'll knock them out; you handle the Awakened—kill or knock out, your call." He pointed out several spots.
Only a handful of Level Two Awakened, the strongest Level Three—easy prey.
"Just a bunch of Level Two trash. I'll go with you; Li Yong, they're yours." Wei Gaocheng strode toward the entrance.
Li Yong nodded and headed for the indicated positions.
Inside the bar.
Boom-boom-boom!
The deafening DJ kept pumping; the tipsy Motley and company swayed to the beat.
Suddenly the music cut dead.
Before anyone could react—
Thud! Thud! Starting at the door, people collapsed one by one.
"What's happening?!" someone beside Motley exclaimed, paling.
Motley's eyes narrowed. "An Awakened's making a move—which fool dares interrupt me?"
A middle-aged man in blue stepped forward to shield him.
As the crowd fell, three figures came into view.
One wore a white suit and fedora; two Caucasians in black suits flanked him.
The white-suited leader smiled amiably as he approached.
Motley frowned—he didn't recognize any of them. He knew most domestic Awakened by sight.
He whispered, "Dodd, do you know them? What's their level?"
Dodd frowned. "Never seen them—they feel dangerous."
A youth beside Motley barked, "What do you think you're doing? Don't you know he's the Bright King's—"
Whoosh! A white bone spike pierced his skull, splattering brain matter across Motley's face.
Motley's expression changed; if he'd had any doubt, it was gone—this was no friendly visit.
Dodd's body began to swell, his skin taking on a cyan sheen. He roared, "Motley, get out of here—I'll—"
Before he could finish, a feather shot through his heart, grazing Motley's cheek as it passed.
Clutching his chest, Dodd stared at the winged, bed-headed youth behind him. "Mon—"
He collapsed mid-word.
Thud! Everyone around Motley slumped unconscious.
Only Motley remained. He touched the scratch on his cheek.
Calmly he faced the trio. "Planning to kidnap me to threaten my brother?"
Han Qi, intrigued by his composure, asked, "Aren't you afraid we're here to kill you?"
"With your strength, if you wanted me dead I'd already be." He glanced at Dodd's lifeless body—top-tier Level Three, yet dispatched like a footnote.
Crack! Wei Gaocheng stepped up and slapped Motley hard.
The blow sent him reeling into a booth, dazed.
"Don't play calm with me," Wei sneered. "Weaklings should act weak. Keep it up and I'll cripple you first."
"I..." Motley swallowed the curses on his tongue.
"Hey, Gaocheng, hold off," Lei Xiangchen interjected quickly.
Turning to Motley—now standing, head lowered—he smiled. "Motley, I've studied your file."
"Hm?" Motley looked up, puzzled by the white-suited, fedora-topped man.
Meeting his eyes—without using his power to mesmerize—Lei spoke.
"You hate living in the Bright King's shadow, don't you? Same mother, yet your brother's talent is monstrous—one of the world's elite—while you're an ordinary man. Without him, you wouldn't be living it up here; you'd be outside scrambling for your next meal like everyone else."
Each word struck home, slow and deliberate.
But Motley was used to it. Calmly he asked, "So? Want to turn me into a Monster?"