In the dead of night, a lithe shadow moved swiftly through the darkness surrounding the villa.
Normally, there would be bodyguards stationed around the property, but tonight, Veil had given specific instructions—everyone had been sent off to enjoy themselves at the club.
With the grace of a cat and the silence of a ghost, Blood Mandala slipped into the villa with ease. As one of the top-ranked assassins in the world, it took her mere moments to identify Veil's bedroom using instinct honed by countless missions.
She crept inside silently. The faint rise and fall beneath the covers told her there was someone in the bed. Her eyes turned cold as a wave of murderous intent surged within her. Without hesitation, she raised her dagger and stabbed down.
Thud!
Once.
Twice.
A third time!
But… there was no blood?
What?
Confusion filled her sharp, beautiful eyes. She yanked back the covers—only to see a life-sized silicone doll lying there in place of Veil!
Bang!
The door slammed shut behind her.
Veil stood at the doorway, smiling lazily, his gaze locked on her. "Such vicious methods," he sneered. "All because I took one of your targets, and now you want me dead?"
"Anyone who steals my prey… must die!" Blood Mandala's pupils contracted. Realization dawned, but she didn't hesitate—she lunged forward, dagger in hand, aiming straight for his throat.
Her movements were swift, lethal, and precise. Even Roy, who had been a pain to deal with in the mountains, hadn't matched her speed. And Veil? In her eyes, he was just some arrogant young master, dumb enough to face her alone.
Since the stealthy kill failed, she'd crush him with overwhelming power!
The blade gleamed with a black sheen—coated in poison. She slashed at his neck, expecting to sever his life in an instant.
But with just a slight shift of his body, Veil dodged it. Effortlessly.
Then—wham!
He threw a low kick straight between her legs. Even though she was a woman, the force made her double over in pain, teeth clenched, eyes burning with rage. "You bastard…!"
Blood Mandala was one of the top three assassins in the rankings. She had her pride, her code. Veil had not only stolen her target, but insulted her dignity, ordered her around like a stray dog.
That alone had crossed the line.
Now? He dared humiliate her?
She gritted her teeth, drew a second poisoned dagger, and launched herself at him again, both blades dancing like a storm of petals in the wind—deadly and beautiful.
"Dual-wielding, huh?" Veil chuckled, his eyes glinting with interest.
He moved like a shadow, weaving between her blades with an ease that was downright infuriating. To him, it was a casual stroll. To her—it was war.
No matter how fiercely she attacked, she couldn't even scratch him.
Based on his movements and her assassin's intuition, she estimated his physical strength hadn't even crossed 100. At best, he was on par with Roy before the breakthrough.
But she was wrong.
Veil's current body stat was 320. His dynamic vision and reaction time weren't even in the same league as hers.
After playing along for a while, Veil gave a lazy yawn. With a casual swat, he knocked both daggers from her hands, twisted her wrists behind her back, and pinned her firmly against the wall.
"Don't move."
"You… how are you this strong?!" Blood Mandala gasped, disbelief coloring her voice.
She'd arrived at the mountain after Roy's death and assumed Veil had relied on overwhelming firepower from his men. She never imagined he could possess such raw strength himself.
"You think this is strong?" Veil snorted. "This is just the beginning."
From his system inventory, he pulled out a length of red rope. With swift, practiced movements, he bound her wrists, then coiled the rope around her curves, pinning her in a bizarre, intricate knot.
Soon, Blood Mandala, deadly assassin and terror of the underworld, was lying helpless on the floor, unable to move. She whimpered in frustration, her striking eyes flashing with both murderous rage and unbearable humiliation.
This was the greatest shame of her life.
She wanted to devour Veil alive just to reclaim her pride.
Veil crouched before her, then reached up to remove her black mask.
What was revealed beneath took his breath away.
A devastatingly beautiful face, framed by cascading dark hair. Her eyes, shaped like blooming peach blossoms, were filled with fire—an intoxicating mix of hatred and shame.
"Kill me," she hissed, voice low and trembling. The command came cold and sharp, but her breath was shaky, her control slipping.
Veil brushed her cheek lightly, clicking his tongue. "With a face like this, you could make a living off your looks. Why choose the assassin's path, licking blood from a blade?"
"Shut up! Either kill me or let me go. If I ever get the chance, I swear I'll kill you!"
Her body jerked with emotion, causing her flawless cheek to press against the cold floor. Her legs curled back, hips rising unintentionally with the motion.
Veil reached out and gently pressed down on her lower back. "Don't be so reckless. What if you scar that pretty face?"
"Don't touch me!" she cried out.
She hated being touched—especially by a man.
Veil watched her seething form with a tinge of pity. Was this misandry? So intense that she'd kill over a stolen target, or lose her mind from a single touch?
Well, it just so happened that Veil now possessed advanced medical knowledge. And as a healer, it was his duty to help those in pain, to treat both body and mind.
How could he ignore such a deeply rooted mental affliction?
And if Blood Mandala harbored such a fear… then perhaps it was time someone helped her overcome it.
One minute later, the room echoed with a blood-curdling scream:
"Veil!!! I'm going to kill you!!!"
An hour later.
Blood Mandala's dazed eyes gradually regained their sharp glint. She turned toward Veil, her gaze brimming with venomous hatred.
"You'd better kill me now… because if you let me live, I will come back for you—and I won't stop until I've torn you apart."
Veil chuckled lightly. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
He crouched down and slowly untied the red rope binding her. "You're free to go now. I'll be looking forward to your next assassination attempt."
"But there's one thing you should know," he added, rising to his feet and giving her a sideways glance. "Tonight… you got lucky. I was in a good mood. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been so generous as to treat you."
Blood Mandala lay on the floor for a few seconds, then, trembling, struggled to her feet.
She still wanted to lunge at him, to risk it all in a final blow—but her body betrayed her. It felt like her limbs had been soaked in anesthesia. Numb. Weak. She could barely keep her balance, let alone fight.
But she didn't need to rush. She would recover.
And when she did… she would make him pay.
She wouldn't be human if she didn't kill Veil.
Bang!
The bedroom door slammed shut behind her.
She was gone—limping, staggering—but her departing glare lingered, sharp as a blade, full of smoldering fury. It was the kind of look that promised she'd be back.
Veil stood still for a moment, then broke into a faint, meaningful smile.
He wasn't worried about her running away. Quite the opposite—he feared she might not come back.
But now? After what happened tonight, even if someone offered her a billion-dollar contract, she wouldn't have the heart to take it. Her mind was now consumed by one singular obsession:
Kill Veil Lancaster.
Letting her go was never the end. She would return. That much was certain.
Besides, Blood Mandala wasn't the kind to lash out at the innocent—she only went after those who wronged her. His people, his household… they were safe.
And really, wasn't that perfect?
A cold-blooded beauty who might break into his bedroom on a random night, just to stir up trouble and keep him entertained?
How could he not keep her around?
Wouldn't it be a waste not to feed and take good care of her?