"Alright." Rory gave a brief nod, no longer paying Dax any attention. She turned toward the kitchen, quickly gathering a few items she needed before heading out to find Gina. Her footsteps faded down the corridor, leaving the villa momentarily quiet.
Dax watched her go, eyes narrowing slightly, before making his way upstairs. The second floor held four guest rooms.
The largest had already been claimed by a beast named Paros, which left Dax with fewer choices. After a short pause, he selected the room closest to the staircase leading up to the third floor. Proximity mattered—for observation, for convenience, and for control.
He pushed the door open and immediately frowned. The room was painfully plain: simple furnishings, neutral walls, nothing remotely luxurious.
Normally, he would have redecorated without a second thought. But appearances mattered. He had to maintain the illusion of being poor, weak, and utterly unremarkable. No upgrades allowed.
The only saving grace was that everything was spotless. For now, he could tolerate it.
His real objective lay elsewhere. The priority was getting all of Rory's other male matches to this city as soon as possible. The faster they arrived, the sooner he could wring every last star coin from them—and then disappear back to Central District. Every extra day spent on this backwater world felt like slow torture.
Once he finished a cursory inspection of the room, Dax turned and headed straight for Paros's quarters. This is where her first match is staying, he thought. Time to collect a little… goodwill.
He knocked.
Inside, Paros reclined casually atop his massive bed, his body half-supported as he absorbed the steady pulse of energy radiating from a Rank 8 beast core.
From the moment Dax had stepped foot into the villa, Paros's mental power had already locked onto him. Every footstep, every shift in movement—nothing escaped his awareness.
Very few knew Dax's true identity. He rarely appeared in public, preferring to operate from the shadows.
But Paros was no ordinary beastman. As a ruler of one of the three major territories allied with Starlight Prime Tech, he had crossed paths with Dax before.
Dax was the newly crowned star lord of the Blood Moon Fox from Central District—the beastmen world financier, the man who moved money like pieces on a board. And now, unexpectedly, he was also one of Rory's matches.
Creak.
The door slid open automatically.
Dax opened his mouth to speak—then froze.
There, sprawled casually across the enormous beast-core bed, was Paros. Another one of Rory's matches. Dax's eyes widened, and his voice caught in his throat.
Paros's gaze drifted lazily toward him. "Mr. Mayer," he said coolly, "do you need something?"
In that instant, Dax couldn't decide whether Rory's luck was astonishing or disastrous. Being matched with Paros was nothing short of a gamble with death.
Dax wiped a thin sheen of sweat from his brow and forced a polite, measured smile. "I just came to greet the other matches," he said carefully. "I didn't expect you to be here. Sorry to interrupt your training."
Damn it, he cursed inwardly. Of all people, I run straight into someone I absolutely can't mess with. What rotten luck.
Dragon Kind were infamous throughout the interstellar. Most were indolent creatures, content to hoard treasures and sleep atop them for centuries. Their strength rivaled that of the Drakainda, yet the majority rarely left the Dragon Palace.
Paros was the exception.
He hated idleness. Instead of sleeping, he trained relentlessly, pushing himself toward ascension.
When he wasn't training, he was conquering—seizing territory and expanding the Dragon Kind's dominion.
Already Rank 11, he stood at the apex of power. Of the four original major territories, three were firmly under Dragon Kind control. The last—Frostveil—remained untouched only because a peak Rank 10 Wolf King resided there. With the Beast God's blessing in play, Paros had temporarily stayed his hand.
Temporarily.
This man was infamous for his volatile temper. Reason meant nothing to him once anger took hold. He was, quite simply, a lunatic.
Paros's forces had once seized multiple shipments belonging to Dax. If not for the intervention of two Central District elders—and the generous concessions Dax had been forced to offer—Starlight Prime Tech would never have been allowed to operate within the territories. At least the profits had been substantial. Even after sacrificing those benefits, Dax had still come out ahead.
"I didn't expect you to be one of Rory's matches as well," Dax said carefully, remaining at the doorway. "What a coincidence."
Inside, his thoughts churned. This just got a lot more complicated. Paros knew exactly who he was. If Paros revealed that truth to Rory, she would never agree to dissolve their match.
Paros's gaze swept over Dax, irritation flickering in his eyes. He despised schemers. Strength was the only thing he respected.
"Enough with the pleasantries," Paros said coldly. "Say what you came to say."
Dax drew in a steady breath. He knew Paros's temperament well enough not to waste time. "Mr. Gabriel," he said earnestly, "let's make a deal. Aside from you and me, Master Roanna has seven other matches who haven't arrived yet."
He paused, then continued, voice low and deliberate. "Dragon Kind are famously possessive—especially you. With your strength, you could dominate the entire beast world. I doubt you'd be willing to share your mate with other males."
That was putting it lightly. Dragon Kind weren't merely possessive—they were ravenous. There were documented cases of Dragon Kind slaughtering rival matches outright, all to ensure their mate belonged to them alone.
The thought alone sent shivers down Dax's spine.