My Taboo Harem!

Chapter 860: Dark Mark Below the Restless Corruption

At some point, humanity had become arrogant enough to challenge the stars with streetlights...

And perhaps, offended by that ridiculous little act of glowing rebellion, the stars had withdrawn from the competition and hung distant and cold now, scattered like aristocrats refusing to mingle with new money.

Only the moon remained close above the island, pale and silent, watching the city lights below with the tired expression of an ancient witness who had seen empires rise, fall, and somehow come back as luxury real estate projects with better branding.

Infinity Chaos Hotel ruled the skyline without even trying.

The monstrous tower speared up from the island’s glittering body with the sovereign arrogance of an emperor who had never once needed to raise his voice to be obeyed. Its upper floors vanished into the night like the city had built a ladder toward godhood and then decided, halfway through, to charge membership fees:

Glass, black steel, and impossible architecture stacked themselves into a vertical declaration of wealth so excessive it stopped being impressive and became mildly offensive.

At the very top, high above the restless corruption below, rested his penthouse.

But...

...Phei’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Far above, on the rooftop itself, at the very crown of Infinity Chaos Hotel, something stood near the edge.

’A figure?’

No, from this distance, it would have looked like nothing more than a tiny dark mark against the vastness of the night, a small dot-likesilhouette placed carelessly near the lip of heaven. Ordinary people would never have noticed it but Phei was no longer ordinary.

He could see it but not enough to name the person or read expression from distance like some deranged rooftop fortune teller, but enough to understand that someone stood there.

Someone was watching the island from the highest edge of the hotel, alone against the hungry gusts of wind, still enough to look almost carved into the night.

Part of that came from his senses sharpening dramatically after reaching Master stage of the Mortal Realm. His body had changed in ways he still had not finished testing while his hearing caught things it should not.

On the same revelation, Phei’s sight stretched further than it had any right to, his already good instincts had become disgustingly confident.

But mostly, it was the Void.

Distance had started losing meaning to him lately.

Not completely; he was not some all-seeingcosmic creep with boundary issues, thank gods, because the universe already had enough surveillance problems without adding him to the list.

But when he focused, the world no longer felt far in the same way, space thinned beneath his attention while air between himself and whatever he wanted to see seemed to fold inward, quietly and obediently, as if reality had decided arguing with him was above its pay grade.

The figure remained there, still and silent.

Phei looked away from silhouette.

The rooftop around him was massive, designed with the kind of wealth that did not ask for admiration because it already assumed admiration had arrived early and was waiting by the elevator. Luxurious seating areas were scattered across the open space in elegant arrangements, all deep cushions and a low fire installations burned in long amber lines, their flames shifting softly inside glass borders, making the cold night look warmer than it actually was.

A self-service bar glowed along the eastern edge, its bottles arranged beneath ambient lights like holy relics for adults with better wardrobes and worse coping mechanisms.

The wind moved through the open space with a bite.

It carried the ancient chill of the forests surrounding the island, that deep, patient, faintly hostile cold that did not feel like weather so much as memory. Hell’s Paradise Island was warm in the city, burning with money, bodies, lights, machines, clubs, and sin, but the forests around it remained old than whatever human genius had first decided to turn a cursed island into a premium destination for rich monsters with designer luggage.

That cold should have touched him.

It did not; the wind parted around Phei’s body as if remembering an old agreement.

Phei lazily swirled the wine in his glass.

He was not actually drinking it; the wine existed more as emotional support than a beverage at this point, something expensive and dark to hold while thinking and occupy his hand while his mind wandered into places where normal people would need therapy, three consultants, and maybe a priest.

’Besides, if I start drinking now, that would ruin my capacity for later.’

Victoria’s bottle was still waiting for him;

’Destiny-shaper of me and my cousin wrapped in glass.’

He exhaled slowly, watching the dark wine circle the inside of the glass like a small private storm.

Honestly, he had run away.

Two straight hours of being dressed, undressed, turned, measured, stared at, touched, circled, corrected, and pelted with jackets while women argued over fabric with the life-or-death seriousness.

’A few hundred thousand for commercials?’

Was it worth the suffering?

’Maybe before.’

Back when money actually mattered and his account balance decided what he could eat, where he could sleep, how much humiliation he had to swallow, and whether the world treated him like a person or a stray inconvenience wearing shoes.

But now?

Now he had billions in inheritance sitting behind his name like a dragon sleeping on a mountain of gold and bad decisions.

And since the Empress had apparently decided her life’s remaining mission was to spoil him so thoroughly that the word spoiled needed to be dragged outside, executed, and replaced with something stronger, why exactly should he not enjoy being a Ryujin Tiamat heir properly?

It was his family’s money, after all.

Phei was not remotely ashamed to admit he was perfectly willing to let generations of terrifyingly wealthy dragons financially carry him through life. Hard work built character, sure. Noble struggle strengthened the soul, absolutely.

Pain taught discipline, beautiful, adorable, inspirational, put it on a motivational poster and sell it to broke people.

But being rich enough to avoid unnecessary inconvenience also built character.

A different character:

’A happier one.’

A character with better skin, more sleep, and no need to pretend suffering was spiritually nutritious.

Standing on that rooftop, holding wine he was not drinking after fleeing a fitting session he no longer needed the money from, Phei felt both philosophies could coexist peacefully inside the same person. He could respect hard work while also recognizing that if life handed him a golden exit door away from nonsense, he was going to walk through it with excellent posture.

And honestly, this whole commercial life was starting to feel distracting.

He had too many things demanding his attention already, mysteries, powers and too many women around him with beauty sharp enough to qualify as a public safety hazard, many enemies hidden behind polished smiles and his own bloodline secrets moving under the surface of his life like ancient things beneath black water.

And yet there he had been, changing coats for people arguing over "texture language."

’What the fuck even is texture language?’

Was the jacket supposed to speak? Was the silk going to confess its childhood trauma? Were the sleeves bilingual?

Phei had almost asked if the trousers had a personality disorder too.

Still, his Goddess’s commercial remained different.

That one sat at the top of his priorities, untouched and unquestioned. He was not just willing to do that shoot and genuinely excited for it.

The young dragon leaned against the railing and looked down at the glowing city below.

Life was funny.

For ten years, the world had treated him like an afterthought and some mistake shoved into the corner while everyone pretended divine blood meant nothing when the wrong person inherited it.

Phei had been ignored, measured, dismissed, humiliated, used, starved of warmth, and expected to be grateful for scraps that were handed over like charity from people whose hearts had apparently been upholstered in cheap leather.

And now the world was coughing up everything he had quietly starved for and dumping it into his lap without apology, without explanation, without even the decency of pacing itself.

Luxury.

Power.

Affection.

Belonging.

Warmth;

A life so indulgent it occasionally felt unreal, as though reality had reviewed the first half of his existence, gotten embarrassed by the writing quality, and started overcompensating with the desperate generosity of a parent who had missed too many birthdays and was now trying to fix emotional neglect with sports cars, a penthouse, and suspiciously unlimited access to beautiful women.

Phei smiled faintly.

Dangerous thing, wealth.

Not because it changed people.

People loved saying that because it made poverty sound morally educational, which was a convenient lie usually told by people who already had money.

Wealth did not always change people. Sometimes it simply removed the leash and exposed what had been hidden under hunger, fear, shame, and dependence and revealed how quickly the world changed around those who possessed it.

Doors opened faster.

Voices softened.

Insults became "misunderstandings."

Enemies developed manners.

And people who once stepped over you suddenly remembered your name with emotional lighting and respectful punctuation.

Anyway...

Phei had come up here for another reason entirely.

The System.

More specifically; the Super Abilities Mystery Box.

Because the Page of Infinity Runes was not the only thing he had received from it. Not even close. There were other things absurd enough to make him wonder whether the System had suffered a divine stroke while handing out rewards.

They were powerful enough that even thinking about them made the air around him feel slightly less stable, as if the night itself had started reading the fine print and regretted showing up.

The rewards were not ordinary and simple tools he could casually toss into his life like accessories; each one carried that quiet, wrong, reality-bending pressure of something that did not ask permission from the world before existing.

Phei narrowed his eyes slightly.

He was just about to mentally call the System forward when—

Soft footsteps echoed behind him.

’Mmm?’

That was new.

With his senses, he did not need to turn around to know several things already. First, the person approaching was not anyone from his group. Second, a stranger...

...Third, a woman.

And fourth...

’Interesting.’

Because despite how soft the footsteps were, the night around them had shifted the moment she arrived.

Not dramatically with some cheap villain entrance, thunder cracking overhead like the universe had hired a theater kid. It was subtler than that; better than that:

A change in pressure and rearrangement of the dark.

The air seemed to make room for her.

Like darkness itself had paused to look at her too.