Beneath a moonless sky, Raiden moved with calculated precision, orchestrating his elite team of private operatives under the Heliosbane family's command to clean up the chaos left in the wake of the brutal battle at David Stewart's mansion. With a flick of his wrist, he wove a high-tier illusion, erasing any trace of the grim truth that had unfolded that night. The unconscious women caught in the crossfire were discreetly transported to a luxurious hotel nearby, where they'd awaken the next morning, blissfully unaware, ensnared in a flawless web of deception so vivid it felt like reality.
Unbeknownst to Raiden, a pair of unseen eyes watched from the shadows near the mansion's sprawling poolside. A figure cloaked in black, moving with the stealth of a ninja, had witnessed every second of the blood-soaked tragedy. Their heart pounded, breaths shallow and ragged, still reeling from the horror they'd just seen.
"Damn it… what the hell did I just witness?!" the figure hissed, voice hoarse as they pressed their back against a towering tree by the pool's edge, struggling to steady their nerves. "I've never seen such ruthless carnage… a woman with the face of a goddess, slaughtering with the elegance of death itself!" A shiver ran down their spine, the haunting image of that woman—practically a living embodiment of the Reaper—burned into their mind.
With trembling hands, they fished an ancient, faintly glowing communicator from their cloak's pocket. "I have to report this to the Young Master," they muttered, resolve hardening despite the fear still gripping them. "Our biggest benefactor… David Stewart, butchered by a pair of terrifyingly powerful magical users." Without wasting another second, they stepped back, their form melting into the shadows at their feet, vanishing as if swallowed by the night itself.
Meanwhile, on the neon-lit streets of the city, Raiden roared through the night in his beloved muscle truck, its exhaust snarling loud enough to rattle the air and turn heads. Beside him, Devina sat with effortless grace, her shimmering hair dancing in the cool night breeze slipping through the cracked window. A tense silence hung between them until Devina broke it with a soft, exasperated sigh.
"I've got a few magical user souls with decent abilities," she said, her tone a mix of irritation and her signature softness. "But they're so… ordinary. Nothing special, just standard stuff." She glanced at Raiden, one brow arched as if seeking his agreement.
Raiden flashed a charming grin, eyes locked on the road ahead. "You're not wrong, Devina," he replied, his voice light but brimming with confidence. "Quantity's no substitute for quality. No matter how many run-of-the-mill magical user souls you've got, they'll never stack up against a foe with unique powers if you're stuck with basic skills."
A sudden spark of inspiration lit up Raiden's face, like a lightbulb flaring to life. "Oh, hold up!" he exclaimed, excitement crackling in his voice. "There's an ancient burial ground in North Borealis where legendary magical users from all kinds of races are laid to rest. What if we head there? We could hunt for some top-tier souls that'd suit your needs!"
Devina's eyes sparkled with interest, but a moment later, her brows furrowed in doubt. "Isn't that place crawling with disaster-class magical beasts? Those things aren't exactly pushovers," she said, her voice balancing cautious concern with a flicker of intrigue.
Raiden chuckled, tossing her a playful glance, his expression downright flirtatious. "Oh, sweetheart, no need to worry. Your husband's more than strong enough to keep you safe from anything," he teased, winking as his finger cheekily brushed against her chest before returning to the wheel.
Devina huffed, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. Her eyes narrowed in that classic tsundere glare, but beneath it, a warmth she couldn't hide flickered. These little moments of banter, simple as they were, always sent her heart racing. Still, she quickly shifted focus, refusing to let herself get too swept up.
"But," Raiden added, his tone turning serious, "we'll need to bide our time. North Borealis isn't some tourist spot. Only magical users with official missions get clearance to enter. We'll need a rock-solid alibi." He fell silent, fingers tapping the steering wheel as he mulled over their options.
Noticing his intense expression, Devina gave his shoulder a gentle pat. "Don't overthink it," she said, her voice softer now, laced with understanding. "For now, I'll train with the souls I've got. It's a good chance to get comfortable before tackling anything… extraordinary."
Raiden's face broke into a wide, admiring grin. "Look at my wife, all wise and understanding," he teased, then leaned over to plant a quick kiss on her cheek before focusing back on the road. Devina rolled her eyes, but the slight curve of her lips betrayed the quiet joy she tried to hide.
After a whirlwind evening of city adventures and savoring an array of street food delights, Raiden and Devina returned to the penthouse, their hands laden with takeout bags brimming with aromatic dishes for the ladies waiting at home. The tantalizing scents of spices and savory goodness filled the air, weaving a warm, inviting atmosphere that lingered into the night.
The next morning, Raiden stirred awake a bit later than usual. His body felt light, almost weightless, thanks to Sylvia's soothing massage the night before, which had lulled him into a deep, restful slumber. With a leisurely stride, he made his way to the penthouse's expansive living area, bathed in the golden glow of morning sunlight streaming through towering windows. But the space felt unusually quiet—almost too quiet. Only one figure graced the room: Cindy.
The platinum-blonde beauty was in the midst of a Pilates session on her yoga mat, her lithe form moving with effortless grace. Each fluid motion radiated strength and elegance, her flawless skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat that caught the morning light, casting a soft, captivating glow. She wore a sleek black sports bra and form-fitting training leggings with crisp white accents from a high-end brand, perfectly accentuating her sculpted curves. A faint, feminine scent—uniquely hers—mingled with the crisp air of the room, stirring a subtle yet magnetic sense of intimacy that hit Raiden like a quiet spark.
He glanced around, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity. "Yo, where's everyone else?" he asked, his voice still rough with the groggy edge of sleep.
Cindy paused mid-movement, her lips curling into a playful, mischievous smile. Her bright eyes sparkled with a hint of tease as she shot him a quick wink. "Morning, Young Master," she purred, her tone warm and just a touch flirtatious. With a graceful motion, she rose to her feet, brushing a bead of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. "The girls? They're off on a mall spree—hunting for clothes and who-knows-what-else. So, for now…" Her smile widened, a glint of secrecy dancing in her gaze. "…it's just you and me."