Chapter 88: Coldness (II)

Once he had secured the licenses, Jackson finally turned his attention toward the woman floating nearby.

Angela remained suspended in the air, her beautiful face frozen in an expression of utter bewilderment. Even behind the protection of her armor, she looked as though someone had just overturned everything she believed about the world.

She had seen the five demonic hunters fighting. She knew how strong they were, how relentlessly they had pursued her, and how difficult it had been to shake them off. Their strength was the very reason she had been forced to keep running instead of confronting them directly.

Yet, in the blink of an eye, all five had been killed.

Not after a prolonged battle. Not after some desperate exchange of powerful skills. They had simply been slaughtered before they could mount a meaningful defense.

Angela struggled to process what she had just witnessed.

What... just happened?

When she had first spotted the mysterious hunter clad in black armor, her expectations had been considerably more modest. She had hoped to use him as a distraction, buying herself enough time to escape or wait for reinforcements to arrive. Even if he proved stronger than an ordinary Third Sequence Awakened, she had never imagined he could completely turn the situation around.

At most, she had expected him to hold the demonic hunters off for a short while.

Instead, he had eliminated five formidable opponents with such ease that the entire encounter seemed almost unreal.

Angela had heard stories of exceptional geniuses defeating opponents at the same realm. Such individuals were rare, but they existed. They were the monsters among monsters, the kind of prodigies whose talents could make ordinary Awakened question the purpose of their own existence.

But even among those geniuses, defeating five opponents of the same realm in a single, effortless strike was something else entirely.

Against this mysterious hunter, the demonic hunters had barely looked like threats at all.

A chill crept down Angela’s spine as she stared at the black-armored figure. For the first time since entering the Outer Forest, she found herself wondering whether escaping the demonic hunters had truly been her greatest concern.

Before she could make sense of her thoughts, a cold glint appeared before her eyes.

A blade was pointing directly at her.

Angela’s body stiffened.

The weapon’s edge hovered dangerously close, its metallic surface catching the light as Jackson held it with unwavering steadiness. There was no unnecessary movement, no visible hesitation, and certainly no trace of the indecision she might have expected from someone who had just finished a fight.

Behind his mask, she could not see his expression. Yet the silence surrounding him somehow made his presence even more oppressive.

Angela instinctively looked toward his concealed face.

Under different circumstances, she would have furiously demanded an explanation. She was Angela Northwind, heir to the Northwind family. She had never been accustomed to standing before someone who pointed a weapon at her and expected her to answer for herself.

Her pride had always been one of her defining characteristics.

But this time, the words caught in her throat.

The image of five heads flying through the air remained painfully vivid in her mind. She had not even seen the full sequence of his movements, much less understood how he had managed to kill five Third Sequence opponents before they could react.

If he could do that to the demonic hunters, what chance would she have if she provoked him?

For reasons she could not entirely explain, a deep sense of dread began to settle in her heart.

"Give me one good reason to spare your life!"

Jackson’s voice was plain and indifferent.

There was no anger in his tone, no dramatic threat meant to frighten her into submission. He spoke as though he were asking an ordinary question and was simply waiting for an answer.

That calmness made his words all the more frightening.

Angela was his villa mate, but that relationship meant very little under the present circumstances. Sharing a residence at Golden Radiance Academy did not grant her immunity from the consequences of her actions, especially when those actions had nearly gotten him killed.

Jackson had not gone looking for trouble. He had been flying through the Outer Forest, completing his missions and minding his own business when Angela had appeared, deliberately leading seven demonic hunters toward him.

And those hunters had attacked without hesitation.

If he had not possessed the Golden Brush, the outcome might have been entirely different.

The thought lingered in Jackson’s mind as he studied the woman before him.

What if he had been an ordinary Third Sequence Awakened? What if he had lacked the ability to manipulate status windows and weaken his enemies before engaging them? His Twin Moon Escape Skill might have allowed him to evade a fatal attack, but escaping seven determined hunters while protecting himself would have been another matter entirely.

He might have been forced into a desperate battle. He might have suffered severe injuries.

Or he might have died.

All because Angela had decided that using him as a distraction was worth the risk.

The more Jackson considered the possibility, the colder his gaze became.

He had no intention of allowing someone to treat his life as a disposable resource simply because they believed they could get away with it.

If Angela could not provide a convincing explanation, he would make certain she understood the consequences of dragging him into a situation like this.

Angela opened her mouth, then closed it again.

She tried to find something to say, some explanation that would make the situation appear less terrible than it was. But under Jackson’s unwavering gaze, the words refused to come. Her usual arrogance seemed to have deserted her at the worst possible moment, leaving her struggling to maintain even the appearance of composure.

Her face had turned deathly pale, and her shoulders trembled faintly.

It was a sight that might have softened the heart of an ordinary man. Angela was undeniably beautiful, and there was something instinctively vulnerable about the way she stood before him, unable to conceal her fear.

Unfortunately for her, Jackson was not an ordinary man, at least not anymore.

His experience with Grace had taught him a lesson he had once been too naive to understand: appearances could be deceptive, and a beautiful woman in distress was not necessarily someone who deserved his immediate sympathy.

He had once been the sort of young man who might have rushed to help without considering the consequences. That version of him had gradually disappeared, replaced by someone who understood that kindness without caution could become a weakness others would happily exploit.

He had no intention of making the same mistake again.

When Angela failed to respond, Jackson slowly raised his free hand and extended three fingers.

"One..."

His voice remained as emotionless as before.

Angela’s eyes widened slightly.

Jackson lowered one finger.

"Two..."

The countdown continued, each number stripping away another moment she might have used to formulate an answer. He made no move to attack her, but the blade remained pointed in her direction, its presence a constant reminder that his patience had limits.

There was no need for him to repeat his demand.

The message was perfectly clear.

Explain herself before the countdown ended, or face the consequences.

Angela’s breathing grew increasingly uneven. She could feel her pride urging her to resist, to demand that Jackson lower his weapon and remember who she was. But every time she looked at the blade, the memory of his earlier attack returned.

She had no idea what he was capable of beyond what she had already witnessed.

And that uncertainty frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

Just as Jackson was about to lower his final finger, Angela finally broke her silence.

"I had no choice. To save my life, I had to do it..."

She turned her face away as she spoke, her voice carrying a mixture of reluctance and indignation. Even now, she seemed unwilling to look directly at him while admitting what she had done.

Jackson listened without interrupting.

"To save your life, huh..."

His expression did not change.

He repeated her words slowly, as though testing their weight, but there was no indication that he believed her explanation. If anything, the flatness of his voice made it difficult to tell whether he was amused, irritated, or already considering what to do next.

His gaze moved over her figure, taking in the armor that covered her body and the slight tension in her posture. He examined her in silence, searching for any hint that might help him determine whether she was telling the truth.

Behind the mask, his eyes remained cold and unreadable.

Angela had offered him an explanation.

Whether it was a good one was an entirely different matter.