Chapter 1558: Provocation

While Lory spent her day in unbothered leisure, the city of Harland stirred with darker headlines. News of the Worthington family’s tragic demise flooded every major channel.

Polished anchors spoke in solemn tones, their expressions carefully composed as they recounted the incident. According to official reports, a fire had broken out during a welcoming party at the Worthington estate, forcing the family to abandon their home, currently undergoing renovation, and seek temporary refuge at a nearby luxury hotel.

Unfortunately, while they were on their way there, disaster struck.

Their vehicle had veered off the mountain road and plunged into a ravine. Rescue teams later recovered the wreckage, along with the bodies of every passenger inside. The accident was described as swift, catastrophic... and absolute.

Most importantly, no survivors.

Under normal circumstances, the tragic accident of a nouveau riche family like the Worthingtons would only be a side story on the news channels.

Yet, this incident dominated nearly every major news outlet in Harland, spreading through social circles and then being covered by foreign news outlets from other countries at an alarming rate, as if someone wanted to ensure the entire world heard about the Worthington family’s deaths.

For some people who know, it was clear this wasn’t just a mere news but a challenge for everyone in the know. A blatant provocation to everyone in the know: ’This is all you got.’

The message was received.

When confirmation reached the Broker King that Derek’s team had failed to complete their contract, the response was immediate and merciless. The bidding reopened, this time with a far greater price placed upon the heads of Lory and Zhao Li Xin.

The sum rose like wildfire.

Across continents and hidden networks, shadows stirred. Applications poured in from killers, mercenaries, and hunters drawn by greed, ambition, or the lure of notoriety. Names long absent from the black market resurfaced. Old predators woke from their slumber.

Some sought glory, some sought fortune. Others are simply eager to test abilith, and some are curious to test whether the rumours surrounding the couple were true... or it’s just an exaggeration.

Thus, somewhere far from the noise, beneath warm sunlight and the scent of sweet confections, Lory continued her peaceful afternoon, fully aware that the storm gathering beyond Harland’s borders had only just begun, and she welcomed it with open arms.

Evening rain poured relentlessly over Heriond City.

What began as distant thunder during sunset had grown into a relentless downpour, veiling the city beneath sheets of silver rain.

The last traces of daylight had long since drowned behind heavy storm clouds, leaving the skyline swallowed by deepening twilight. Streetlights flickered alive one by one, their golden glow dissolving into blurred halos against the rain-streaked glass and flooded pavement below.

Thunder rolled across the darkened sky in slow, ominous waves, while sudden flashes of lightning briefly revealed the towering silhouettes of the city before plunging everything back into shadow. The storm pressed heavily against the world, thick with the quiet promise of something yet to come.

Inside the villa, warmth stood in gentle contrast to the unrest outside. Lory curled comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a soft knitted blanket.

The television cast a soft, flickering glow across her face as she watched the evening news, a porcelain mug of hot chocolate nestled between her hands. Thin tendrils of steam rose from the drink, carrying the rich scent of cocoa that mingled with the muted rhythm of rain tapping steadily against the tall glass windows.

Across from her, Zhao Li Xin sat in a high-backed chair near the fireplace. A sword rested across his lap as he worked with meticulous patience, drawing a whetstone along the blade in slow, deliberate strokes.

Each movement was precise and unhurried, the faint metallic whisper blending seamlessly with the steady drumming of rain beyond the villa walls.

"Fred really did a good job," Lory said with a satisfied smile, her eyes still fixed on the news broadcast as she took a slow sip of her hot chocolate.

A moment later, she turned toward him, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "Is that a new sword?"

Zhao Li Xin glanced up at her, a faint smile touching the corners of his lips. "Not new," he replied calmly, his tone casual and relaxed. "It’s just something I forged long ago. I found it again in the Mystique Realm and thought, rather than letting it collect dust in a chest, why not use it?"

He tilted the blade slightly, examining its surface as it caught the warm glow of the firelight, the polished steel gleaming like liquid silver beneath the dancing flames.

"Though, I must confess, this is not my best creation, so I made a few adjustments here and there..." he continued, running his thumb lightly along the flat of the blade in quiet appraisal.

"I intend to test it tonight and see how it performs." His eyes gleamed with a faint spark of excitement, like a child barely able to contain himself before showing off a new toy to his friends.

Lory silently lit a candle in her heart for whoever would become the subject of that test.

Meanwhile, thunder rumbled again, followed by rain battering the windows in restless waves, as though announcing their coming through the whole city.

Lory sipped her hot drink, then closed her eyes, drawing in a slow breath to savor the rich sweetness lingering on her tongue. After a moment, she opened them and turned her gaze toward the rain-streaked windows. Her expression remained calm and solemn, untouched by stress or worry.

"Tsk... I just renovated the kitchen," she murmured quietly.

Zhao Li Xin caught her soft complaint and couldn’t help letting out a low chuckle.

Late night settled heavily over the upscale villa neighborhood, cloaking it in an air of pristine, cultivated stillness. Streetlights cast warm, deliberate pools of gold across the immaculate roads, their glow shimmering faintly upon rain-damp pavement.

Grand villas stood in dignified silence, their manicured gardens glistening beneath the muted light, each estate sealed behind wrought-iron gates and perfectly trimmed hedges like sleeping sentinels guarding their masters’ wealth and privacy.

No voices lingered. The rain had softened into a thin, ghostly drizzle, mist clinging low along the streets like a funeral veil. The villa stood quiet beneath the dim glow of distant streetlamps, its elegant silhouette serene... deceptively peaceful.

Then, from the darkness beyond the outer gates, figures emerged.

They wore black tactical suits, their faces concealed beneath seamless dark cloth.

Their movements were swift yet utterly soundless, as though their footsteps were guided by the lingering rhythm of the rain itself. They blended effortlessly into the night, gliding forward like restless spirits slipping between shadows.

Within moments, they reached the villa’s perimeter.

One of them raised a subtle hand signal, and the group dispersed with flawless coordination.

An assassin dropped to one knee beside the security panel, gloved fingers dancing across concealed mechanisms with practiced familiarity. Surveillance cameras flickered once... then dissolved into lifeless black. Layer after layer of alarm systems collapsed in silent succession, dismantled with surgical precision.

A moment later, another assassin stepped forward and tossed a small glass sphere toward the front entrance. It struck the marble floor with a soft, hollow chime before rolling to a stop. Etched runes along its surface ignited, glowing with a faint, eerie blue light.

The air trembled.

Almost instantly, the protective charms woven throughout the villa’s structure faltered. The invisible barrier guarding the estate fractured soundlessly, its unseen glow flickering weakly before crumbling into nothingness, as though unseen hands had smothered its power beneath the suffocating weight of the night.

The intruders split effortlessly into three groups, dispersing like ink bleeding into water.

One slipped across the front porch, melting into the shadows beneath the decorative pillars. Another circled toward the side entrance, tools already poised between slender, steady fingers.

The third moved with predatory grace, scaling the outer wall before leaping soundlessly onto the second-floor balcony. The sliding door yielded without protest, gliding open with barely a whisper.

Two assassins stepped into the master bedroom, their movements slow and deliberate. Their eyes swept across the dimly lit space before settling on the bed, its blankets rising in the unmistakable shape of sleeping bodies beneath the covers.

They approached cautiously. One of them drew a silenced pistol from her holster, raising it with unwavering precision. Without hesitation, she squeezed the trigger.

Soft, muffled bursts broke the stillness as the bullets tore into the bed. However, what followed was neither blood nor a muffled groan, but scattered feathers bursting into the air like startled white birds, drifting weightlessly through the dim room.

The assassins froze. They exchanged stunned glances, realization flashing across their masked expressions.

Suddenly, from behind them, a light, almost carefree voice drifted through the air. "That’s a new sheet, you know."

They spun around instantly, but before they could retaliate, an icy gust surged through the room.

At the same time, on the first floor. The assassin who had breached the first floor slipped silently into the living room, blade drawn, breath measured, every muscle coiled with lethal focus. The second intruder, who had entered through the side door, emerged from the corridor moments later.

They exchanged a brief nod, an unspoken signal that the perimeter had been secured. Together, they advanced deeper into the villa until they reached the living room area, their senses stretched taut for the slightest disturbance.

Then, all of a sudden, the furnace ignited. Firelight flooded the room in violent waves of gold and crimson, shadows snapping wildly across the polished marble floor, casting a long silhouette across the gleaming surface.

And there he was, a man with long dark hair, dressed in flowing black robes, reclining comfortably in a high-backed chair before the fire. A sword rested against the chair beside him, its polished edge catching the flickering light with an ominous gleam.

In his hand, he held a jade cup, idly swirling the clear wine within. His movements were unhurried, composed, like a host passing a quiet evening rather than a man awaiting intruders.

He raised the cup and took a slow, measured sip before lifting his gaze toward them.

"I almost thought... You weren’t coming."His voice carried a faint note of relief, almost conversational. Yet his eyes gleamed with something far more dangerous.