Chapter 233 - 233: How can that butler overpower two strong fighters?
"Your mistress would have to show some respect when speaking to an aristocratic family; a mere servant dares to speak to us in such a tone." Mitch pushed back his chair, which fell with a loud thud as he reached out to Kyle's collar.
Kyle leaned back into his chair, tripping Mitch's ankle from under the table, causing him to miss his attack and fall face down onto the table.
Mitch let out a pained grunt, his eyes watering as warm liquid dripped from his nose.
"You're bleeding!" Milton cried out, snapping Mason out of his stunned state.
"How dare you hurt my son! You will pay with your life for this. Guard! Come and hold him down for me!" Mason shouted to the two guards who accompanied him.
"Baby, hold on! It won't leave a scar. We'll go to the hospital. Call a doctor!" Mason's overly cooing tone made Kyle shudder in disgust.
"Meow…It's just a broken nose, not a bullet wound." Blue muttered, his whiskers bristling in disgust and annoyance at being woken up.
Kyle yawned into his hand, watching with a detached expression as Mason hovered over Mitch, who started crying with a pallid face as if he was about to meet his end.
He only looked up when he heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming down the stairs.
"Hold him down and make sure you break both his hands to calm his son's anger," Mason ordered, his eyes flashing cruelly towards Kyle, but they softened into a worried expression when he turned to the crying Mitch.
"Milton, ask a local where the hospital is. Stop crying, Mitch—Dad promises to give him to you as a slave to play with as much as you like. Shhh…" Mason gently patted Mitch's back, and his cries stopped.
"I want to witness him scream in pain as they break his hand," Mitch said hoarsely, eagerly gazing towards Kyle's direction.
"Alright."
Kyle watched such an exciting drama in boredom, as if he weren't the main protagonist.
The two women cracked their knuckles and lunged from both sides, but before they could seize him, their bodies fell backwards with a loud thud.
A short dagger was embedded in both their foreheads, taking their lives instantly—and no one knew when Kyle made a move.
"Are you paying or not?" Kyle returned to the main topic, as if he hadn't just murdered two people in broad daylight.
Mason and Mitch went deathly pale, feeling as if death was tightly wrapped around their necks, and any slight movement could cause their throats to snap.
"We're leaving," Mason said hurriedly, pulling a trembling Mitch out of the room, hiding their tails behind their legs as they ran away.
"Meow... cowards." Blue stretched and elegantly hopped onto the table.
Kyle rose and gazed at the empty doorway with a frown. "We might be expecting uninvited guests tonight. Troublesome."
"First, I need a good bath and enough sleep. Nicole will handle it."
Kyle quickly shifted the work to Nicole; he didn't want dark circles under his eyes from lack of proper sleep.
He gazed at the dead bodies and sighed, inwardly blaming Cyra for his troubles.
…
Meanwhile, Mason and Mitch met Milton along the way and, too shaken to speak, silently pulled him toward the shoreline.
"Are we not staying again? Dad, you said Mother is trying to build a lasting relationship with the island boss through marriage. Why are we returning?" Milton asked, puzzled by their actions.
"We'll discuss it when we get back," Mason quickly replied, stopping whatever he was about to say.
Getting closer to the shore, Mason's pounding heart slowed, and remembering his unsightly actions of fleeing made him grit his teeth in hatred as Kyle's face appeared in his mind.
"Dad, what should we do about that butler? If one of us marries the island owner, we could suffer or even die at his hands," Mitch finally said, his voice trembling with fear of what lies ahead.
"He's just a butler, there's no need to fear him; just hire someone to sell him off to those wealthy women as a plaything," Milton said carelessly, not recognising the threat the butler posed.
"That's easy for you to say; you didn't see how he killed our guards so effortlessly. I didn't even catch how he attacked." Mitch's words finally made Milton realise that the guards were close by.
'Impossible, how can that butler overpower two strong fighters? Did women play a role as their family's top fighters?' Milton wondered and was about to refute Mitch's words when he noticed their father was unusually calm with a serious expression.
"Dad, is it true? Those were our top fighters." These words escape his lips instead of a rebuttal.
"Hmm." Mason responded with a brief hum, his mind racing as he pondered how to handle Kyle.
'He must die. He can't be allowed to live if my son is to marry the Island owner successfully. The crystal spring can only be theirs.'
"We'll talk about it with your mother when we return. The butler cannot stay," Mason announced, ending the discussion.
They had to act quickly because, based on his wife's secret intel, the other aristocratic families were prepared to move.
Since they couldn't seize it by force, they would pursue a marriage alliance to bind Cyra to them.
...
Cyra, unaware of the Aristocrat family's plans, was drinking a bottle of blood as she watched the roaring bonfire.
"Does the monster tides happen very often?" Viktor asked as he sat on the folding chair beside Cyra, holding a plate of meat in his hand.
"No, every ten years. But I don't know if times have changed," Cyra responded lazily, staring out into the vast desert.
Viktor bit into his meat while watching Cyra from the side, the firelight illuminating her red hair and highlighting her red lips.
Cyra sensed his intense gaze and turned to face him, her lips curling slightly.
She approached him, her breath warm against his face as she softly cupped his chin with her pale fingers.
"Stop staring as if you want to eat me instead. It's…tempting…" Cyra's sultry voice made Viktor's heart race, his ears reddening in seconds, and he nearly forgot how to breathe.
Cyra chuckled, wiping the oil stains from the corner of his lips before settling back into her chair.
"Umm…I…" Viktor faltered weakly, his mind too scrambled to find words; he could only stuff his mouth with food to conceal his embarrassment.
Cyra rubbed her fingers, still feeling the warmth of his body, and chuckled at his action before she took a sip of her drink.
Meanwhile, Zane watched Greed greedily devour his food, and his lips twitched in disgust.
"Make sure you clean yourself once you're done eating." He instructed, leaving before Greed could respond.
The women eat happily, some hoping for another monster tide to let them enjoy a good meal like this, knowing that tomorrow
things will return to normal.