Chapter 115: Task

Chapter 115: 115: Task

"I think you are possessed, Corinthian," the second man muttered, staring at him with his brows tightly knit in disgust.

"What are you planning to do now?" the black-haired man suggested, visibly unnerved. "How about you move into my place for a while to clear your head?"

"I don’t—"

"Yo, you guys are here? What’s up with Corinthian? He looks like hell." A blonde-haired man strolled into the booth, a glass of wine dangling from his fingers as he slid onto the leather couch next to Corinthian.

"He’s lusting after his sister," the black-haired man revealed bluntly.

"Your adopted sister?" The blonde man scoffed, shaking his head in mild disappointment. "Your taste is getting weird, man. Why get so worked up over such an average girl?"

"Not his adopted sister," the second man corrected in a bone-dry tone. "His biological sister."

The blonde man froze mid-sip. He slowly turned his head toward Corinthian, his eyes narrowing in sharp disbelief. "Is that true?"

Corinthian exhaled a heavy, ragged breath and gave a helpless nod.

A suffocating silence descended upon the table. "You are completely insane," the blonde man murmured. "Do you have a picture of her? Let me see what she looks like."

Corinthian hesitated for a moment before reaching into his pocket, pulling up Nova’s photograph on his phone, and sliding the device across the table.

The blonde man looked at the screen, his mouth dropping open in stunned silence. He immediately handed the phone to the second man, whose eyes widened in equal shock before passing it along to the black-haired man.

"No wonder you’ve lost your damn mind," the black-haired man admitted, handing the phone back to Corinthian. "Who wouldn’t lose control over a living doll like this?"

"I didn’t ask you to comment on her," Corinthian growled, a lethal edge in his voice.

The blonde man raised his hands defensively and scoffed. "Do whatever you think is right, but I can’t advise you on this mess," he said, taking a deep drink of his wine.

"Count me out of this topic entirely," the black-haired man and the second man chimed in, completely turning their backs on Corinthian.

Corinthian jammed his phone back into his pocket, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth gritted together. "Fine then. I’ll just take her for myself. Whisking her out of the country will be the better option," he resolved silently.

"Enjoy yourselves. I’m leaving," Corinthian muttered, standing up and striding out into the night.

"Is this guy actually going to do something crazy?" the black-haired man asked, watching Corinthian’s retreating figure disappear through the crowd.

"With the way he looked? He’s going to do something far worse than crazy," the blonde man replied darkly. "I can’t even believe someone could be that alluring... Honestly, the whole thing feels off. Whatever he intends to do, I’m staying far away from him. Better yet, I’m cutting ties tonight." He pulled out his phone.

"I think you’re right," the remaining two men agreed, pulling out their own devices to sever contact immediately.

"Excuse me for a moment, guys. I need to make a call," the blonde man said, standing up and heading for the exit.

Outside, the cool night air did little to dispel the lingering tension. Leaning against his sleek, black SUV, the blonde man dialed a private number and pressed the phone to his ear. It rang several times before connecting.

"What’s up, Rolland?" a cheerful voice chimed over the speaker.

"Check all the captive aliens," Rolland commanded, his tone dropping into a serious, icy register. "Aside from Naomi who went missing, are there any other missing aliens?"

A long, heavy silence stretched over the line before the recipient spoke again. "No, no one else is missing. What’s the matter?"

Rolland exhaled slowly. "Corinthian showed me a picture of his biological sister just now. I suspect it’s an alien using his sister’s identity."

"You’re forgetting we have an active alien tracker here," the voice reminded him smoothly. "If there were an unregistered alien on Earth, the tracker would have sounded an alarm instantly."

"Makes sense," Rolland murmured, though the tension in his shoulder blades didn’t ease. "We still have to be vigilant. Naomi is still out there, and we can’t afford another mistake."

"Noted," the voice replied, and the line disconnected.

Rolland stared at his phone for a long moment, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white. He opened the car door, stepped inside, and drove off into the darkness.

Back at the Darson mansion, soft lamplight bathed Nova’s bedroom in a tranquil glow.

Nova sat propped against the headboard, her phone held in one hand as she finished texting Raymond. Beside her, Alan slept peacefully like an innocent child, his head buried against her chest, his arms wrapped securely around her waist. Nova’s free hand idly stroked through his soft hair.

Just as Nova typed a quick goodnight to Raymond and set her phone on the nightstand, the air in the room grew unnaturally frigid. A figure materialized out of thin air beside the bed—Anah. Her feet hovered inches above the floor, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"The System has assigned your mission," Anah announced flatly.

A sharp, dangerous smirk played on Nova’s lips as she glanced up, her fingers never stopping their gentle motion through Alan’s hair. "What’s the task?"

"Tomorrow evening, Mr. Darson is overseeing a secret shipment of illegal drugs being imported into the country," Anah revealed. "You are to follow him to the drop site. Something hidden inside that shipment belongs to you, and you must retrieve it."

Nova’s dark smile widened, her eyes gleaming with predatory intent.

"Furthermore," Anah continued, "you are to ruin the Darson family completely. As for Mrs. Darson... she won’t survive the night."

Nova raised an eyebrow, a flicker of genuine intrigue in her voice. "Oh? What happened to her?"

"Mrs. Darson holds the ultimate authority in this household—not merely because she is the matriarch, but because she legally owns this estate, the corporation, and eighty-five percent of the family’s entire fortune," Anah explained. "Mr. Darson has covetously craved her wealth for years. He has been slowly poisoning her in secret... and tonight’s dinner was her final meal."

Anah paused before adding, "Jenifer’s original disappearance was his doing as well. To ensure the poison worked effectively, he orchestrated her abduction to break Mrs. Darson’s spirit, knowing the severe grief would accelerate the toxin’s lethal effects. Jenifer was fortunate enough to survive being discarded, but as you already know, she ultimately took her own life."

A low, dark chuckle escaped Nova’s throat—a chilling sound dripping with pure, unadulterated malice that cut through the silent room.

"Well then," Nova whispered softly into the shadows, a suffocating aura settling over her like a dark veil. "May Mrs. Darson rest in peace... and as for the rest of them, they had better prepare to welcome death."