“Congrats, Blank. Didn’t think you’d make a move that fast.”
Ruby’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. Bradley rolled his eyes and yanked her back by the ear.
Then, without a word, he went to his room and came back with two little blue pills in hand, cleared his throat, and solemnly declared,
“Bro, I won’t say much. Just this—if it doesn’t kill you, go all in.”
He glanced around the room.
“Y’all mind giving them some space?”
Madman stared in disbelief. “Dude. Are you psychic? You came prepared?”
“Of course I did,” Bradley grinned. “I mean, c’mon, it’s Money Traveler we’re talking about. I could tell just by looking at ’em—they were bound to get together. I saw the truth before anyone else.”
Despite the goofy exterior, Bradley was the type of guy whose IQ only got higher the more he played dumb. The man was a true anomaly—unemployed, broke, and yet somehow married the top campus belle of BG City, who now willingly bore his child.
Suddenly, everything made sense. Madman? A fake ladies’ man. The real king of romance? This guy right here.
“I told you, she was just fixing my game pod! Don’t start with your nonsense…”
Blank’s face was still red as a tomato. Her tsundere instincts kicked in and she grabbed a pillow to throw, glaring daggers at Orson before storming off with all the icy pride she could muster.
But no matter how cold she acted, she couldn’t hide it. Just a few steps past the others, the corners of her mouth started curving up.
Dancing Giant Boobs: “I’m ordering late-night snacks. This calls for a proper celebration!”
Ruby: “Blank, does Orson smell nice? You looked so happy earlier. I wanna snuggle too. What do I doooo?”
Stewart: “Does the Bruce Family have any more single daughters? I’ll pour my soul out for her, I swear!”
Blank kept her lips pressed tight, fighting the urge to smile. As the resident ice queen, her pride wouldn’t let her break character, no matter how close she came to laughing.
“Limited-time party begins now!”
Bradley hauled out a huge suitcase, practically glowing with excitement. Inside? Wads of cash. Real, physical bills.
He’d withdrawn the whole thing just to roll around on his bed during moments of boredom. But tonight, for his bro’s big win, he was making it rain for everyone.
Bills flew through the air. The speakers blasted music. Neon lights flashed. The whole gang went wild.
Orson glanced at Blank. Their eyes met and both burst into laughter. Getting caught red-handed doing something sneaky was always a little awkward.
But watching everyone have such a blast, they couldn’t keep pretending to be aloof.
At Ruby’s insistence, Blank finally changed out of her pajamas and into a slinky red dress. Under the pulsing music, her elegant curves swayed like a dream.
Her dazed, half-lidded eyes stayed locked on him the entire time—like she was scared he might vanish if she blinked.
Under the kaleidoscope of lights, something inside Orson stirred.
From this moment on, another woman had wrapped herself around his heart. It was thrilling… and terrifying.
“Come on! Stop acting cool and get your ass out there!”
Madman yanked Orson out of his seat and shoved him in front of Blank.
“Stiff limbs. You dance like a corpse.”
Blank laughed when she saw him freeze up. She stepped back and crooked a finger at him.
“What’s wrong, Master Mage? Are you sick? Why’s your face red? That terrible dancing of yours? I totally crushed you.”
Shit.
She hit his weak spot.
Orson’s face burned. Panic set in.
Dancing? Parties?
This was a no-win situation.
The great mage of Infinite Dimensions had two left feet. His dancing was about as smooth as his zombie minion’s melee attack.
“She’s laughing so happily…”
Orson stared at her, dumbfounded. She was teasing the hell out of him, and he should’ve been pissed…
But when she smiled, all he felt was warmth.
“Calling Tiger-Eye. What’s the target doing in there? Any danger?”
“Relax, Hawk. The guy is the danger. As long as he doesn’t go schizo, it’s all good.”
“Wait… who the hell’s visiting this late?”
At the villa entrance, a retired marine-turned-security guard was filling in as night watch.
He scanned the visitor’s ID. Name checked out—it was someone on the whitelist.
But no soldier ever lets their guard down. The guy was wearing sunglasses at night. Major red flag.
So he made the call.
“Sir, someone named Michael is here to see you.”
Orson was standing in the garden when his phone buzzed. The first thing he heard was a raspy, menacing voice saying “Sir,” and he nearly burst out laughing.
“Cut the act, Sergeant. Let me make this simple.”
He smirked. “Put a bag over his head and beat the crap out of him. Tell him it’s bad etiquette to drop by at midnight.”
“Copy that.”
The ex-marine hung up, reached under the desk, and pulled out a plastic zip tie and a burlap sack.
Hawk gave the visitor a friendly smile, then—right when the man reached for his ID—slammed the bag over his head.
“What the hell’s your problem!?”
The man thrashed and cursed, trying to shake it off.
Too bad.
Even with solid combat skills, he didn’t stand a chance against a two-time US combat champion.
He was dragged out of the SUV and pummeled with fists like sledgehammers.
He lay there in a daze. What the hell kind of friendly security guard hits harder than a gang enforcer?
“Sir said no visitors. Now, where do you live? I’ll take you home.”
The sergeant’s tone was cold as steel. Slaughter Spree was dumbstruck.
He’d just been jumped, bagged, and beaten… and now they were offering him a ride?
He wasn’t stupid. He immediately figured out who was behind this.
Soon, his hands and feet were bound, and he was tossed in the back seat like luggage.
The sergeant kept asking for his home address like a polite Uber driver.
Fuming, Slaughter Spree shouted,
“ORSON… I’M GONNA END YOU, YOU SON OF A—!”
Back inside the villa, Blank slid open the balcony door and joined Orson under the moonlight.
The party was winding down. Everyone was a little drunk, but glowing with joy.
Blank let out a soft breath, her cheeks flushed with wine. Her voice was gentle and sweet, like a strawberry shortcake.
“You’re still thinking about Sienna, huh? Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”
Sienna was still inside Infinite Dimensions. That unsettled Orson, but the pod’s vitals showed everything was stable.
A forced logout could mess with her nervous system, so he decided not to intervene.
“It’s nothing. Just heard some guys arguing outside the complex. Sounded like a love triangle turned into a fistfight.”
“Oooh? A love triangle?” Blank blinked innocently.
“Yeah. Looked like the guy who won got the girl. Kinda jealous, honestly.”
“Jealous? Don’t tell me she’s prettier than me.”
Blank gave him a sulky glare and elbowed him in the side.
Critical Hit: -2 HP!
Orson laughed through the pain and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest.
“Someone’s gonna see us… You’re so gross.”
Blank pretended to resist, but her face was burning red.
“Slice your jugular. Dead.”
“Snap your ribs, shred your organs. Dead.”
“Steal your heart. Still dead.”
“Take your soul. Double dead.”
The assassin whispered her usual lines, but Orson just chuckled.
She never forgot who she was—or who she belonged to.
Under the misty moonlight, she looked like a dream. The proud daughter of the Bruce Family now giggled like a fool in his arms.
Maybe… this idiot wasn’t so bad after all. His embrace felt safe. Warm.
Blank tilted her head up, tiptoed closer, and stared into his eyes.
Drunk on the moment, she murmured,
“You fell right into my trap, Orson. Elite hunters always appear… as prey.”
Orson burst out laughing. “Oh? That’s clever. But don’t you think the price was a bit steep?”
“Not at all. Not even a little.”
She smirked playfully.
“Do you know what this means? If you ever lose me… you won’t survive it.”
“So that means I win, right?
Megacaster.”
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter