My Harem Will Help Me Get My Revenge-Chapter 58: [ - - 50] - The End And The Beginning

Chapter - 50

As Lucius stepped into the suite, he found exactly what he expected.

Luxury dripped from every corner— golden chandelier overhead, plush carpets underfoot, and a half-empty bottle of whiskey sweating on the glass table.

Marcus lounged in a leather armchair by the window, a smirk tugging at his lips. A woman in a tight red dress perched on his lap, her fingers curled around his collar, laughing softly at something he’d whispered.

The moment her eyes met Lucius’s, the laughter died.

The two men flanking the room stiffened. One stood by the minibar, the other loomed in the hallway. Both moved subtly, their hands sliding toward their belts.

Lucius didn’t give them the chance.

The man near the minibar sprang first— fast, but not fast enough.

Lucius slammed his foot into the coffee table, sending it crashing into the attacker’s shins. As the man stumbled, Lucius

snatched the standing lamp nearby and swung hard— CRACK— The crack was sickening. He crumpled against the wall, gasping like a fish out of water.

The second man had managed to draw a knife— a slim, military-grade combat blade—but Lucius was already on him. He ducked low, felt the blade whistle over his shoulder, then caught the man’s wrist in both hands.

A twist, a snap, and the knife clattered to the floor. Lucius rammed his knee into the man’s gut, doubled him over, then brought down an elbow hard on the back of his neck.

Behind him, the second man roared and charged.

Lucius twisted, grabbed the whiskey bottle off the table, and smashed it into the man’s face—glass exploded, blood sprayed. But the bastard stayed on his feet.

He tackled Lucius to the ground.

They crashed hard. Lucius rolled with the momentum, reached under the couch, and yanked out a heavy glass ashtray. He brought it down on the man’s temple—once. Twice.

The man slumped. Still.

Across the room, the first man was up again—bleeding, wild-eyed.

Lucius rose smoothly, no panic in his movement. He grabbed a barstool by the counter and, without hesitation, hurled it like a javelin. It struck the man in the ribs with a dull thud, sending him crashing into the wall before he crumpled to the floor.

Silence.

The woman in the red dress scrambled off Marcus’s lap, terrified, and ran to the corner of the room, hands over her mouth.

Lucius calmly adjusted his shirt collar and took the single-seater opposite Marcus. One leg crossed over the other. Calm. Controlled. Face unreadable.

Marcus didn’t flinch. If anything, his grin widened.

He poured himself a drink with one hand, his eyes never leaving Lucius— like a lion might watch another lion walk into his territory.

"Well," he said, lifting the glass in a mock salute, "Now that’s one way to knock."

Lucius said nothing. Just stared.

Marcus took a sip, then gestured toward the unconscious bodies, "So...should I be flattered or concerned?"

Lucius finally spoke, "Depends on how much you paid them."

Marcus chuckled, "Clearly, not enough."

A beat of silence. Just the clink of ice swirling in the glass. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

"You...here for the deal?" Marcus asked, voice light.

Lucius didn’t blink, "You know why I am here."

"Ah, right... The mysterious disappearing file. Mr. Singh’s sudden change of heart. That whole mess." Marcus leaned back, lips curling, "Tell me... Do you always take rejection this much personally?"

Lucius gave a dry smile, "Only when rats like you pretend to be kings."

Marcus raised his brows, clearly amused, "You’ve got a bite. I admire that."

Lucius leaned in, voice like a blade, "You have got thirty seconds to undo the deal. Or I start taking fingers."

Marcus glanced at his manicured hands, then met Lucius’s stare, unfazed, "And you think that’s supposed to scare me?"

Lucius let out a low, cold laugh, "Not yet. But I will."

A moment passed— thick, silent.

Marcus swirled his drink, then crossed one leg over another with a theatrical calm, "You know," he said, staring at Lucius with a thoughtful smile, "The world’s funny. Men like you, they are full of rage, full of fire. You burn bright. But you burn out fast."

He raised his glass, "The world doesn’t bow to fire. It kneels to dragons."

Lucius said nothing.

Marcus smiled wider, "Dragons don’t roar for attention. They wait. They sleep. Then, when the time is right—they burn kingdoms down. One by one."

He took a long sip, "You think you are dangerous. But you are not. You are just a man. One man, in a world built by monsters."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, eyes cold and flat, "Are you done?"

Marcus stood, slow and smooth, walking to the window. The city lights reflected in the glass as he stared out.

"No," he said softly, "I am just getting started."

He turned his head slightly, "There are bigger games at play, Mr Lucius. Bigger names. Bigger sharks. The deal I made— it’s not just a business deal. It’s a door. Once opened, there’s no going back."

Marcus turned, facing Lucius again, "And you, my friend... You are standing in front of that door, thinking you can slam it shut."

Lucius let out a breath and glanced at his fingernails, "You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?"

Marcus laughed, "I love the truth. I love power. And I love watching small men pretend to be brave."

Lucius leaned forward, calm and steady. Eyes locked, "This is your last chance," he said calmly, "Give up the deal. Walk away. I gave someone my word I would fix this."

Marcus’s smirk widened.

"Oh?" he said lightly, "And let me guess—this ’someone’... is Iris?"

Lucius didn’t flinch, but his jaw flexed— just once.

Marcus stepped closer, tone turning mocking, "She’s quite the masterpiece, isn’t she? That voice...those eyes..."

He gave a low whistle, shaking his head, "If I could have her for one night..."

He paused, grinning slowly with a filthy smile.

"I wouldn’t waste a second. I would break her down softly. Make her beg for more. And when she cries my name, I’d—"

Lucius didn’t even wait for him to finish.

He exploded forward, fist flying—pure rage in motion, aimed straight for Marcus’s face, fury blazing in his eyes.

But it stopped mid-air.

A hand— calm, strong, and impossibly fast— gripped Lucius’s wrist.

Lucius blinked.

The man hadn’t been in the room a moment ago.

No sound. No movement. Just... there. Like the wind. Silent as breath.

He was tall, but not bulky. Dressed in flowing, dark-blue robes with wide sleeves and a high collar. His long hair was tied back, his face clean-shaven and expressionless. Sharp, unreadable eyes stared at Lucius with no emotion.

Lucius tried to yank his hand back.

Nothing.

The man didn’t even flinch. His grip was stone. Unyielding.

Behind him, Marcus laughed.

"Oh-ho... look at your face, Mr Lucius," he said, stepping back with a grin. His voice was full of mockery, like he was enjoying a private joke, "You look confused."

He motioned to the tall, silent man standing beside him.

"Meet Master Lei," Marcus said, "My personal guardian angel."

He walked over and placed a hand on Lei’s shoulder— slow, with fake respect— almost like he was showing off a prize.

"He doesn’t speak much," Marcus continued, "But he sees everything. Hears everything. And when needed..."

He smiled.

"...he ends things."

Lucius narrowed his eyes, keeping them on Lei, "Hiding behind others now, Marcus?"

Marcus chuckled and swirled his drink, "I am not hiding. I am evolving. See, I am no brute. I don’t need to fight. I pay others to do it for me. That’s how power works."

He took a sip, then leaned lazily against the long glass table like he didn’t have a care in the world.

"Master Lei," Marcus said softly, like a whisper, "Remove this little headache for me. But don’t kill him. I would like to give that little girl a surprise."

Lei gave a small nod— silent. Calm. Deadly.

Lucius finally yanked his arm free. He stepped back, steadying himself. His gaze locked on the man between him and Marcus.

Something about Lei was different.

He wasn’t like the guards in the hallway. He didn’t puff his chest or act tough.

He simply stood—calm, silent, rooted like an ancient tree. Unmoving. Watching.

Lucius smirked, rolling his shoulders.

"Alright," he muttered, "Let’s dance."

He struck first.

A sharp jab to the ribs. A feint with the left. Then, a sweeping low kick aimed to buckle the knees.

But Lei moved like a mist.

Not a block. Not a dodge. A subtle shift—graceful, fluid. Lucius’s strike sliced through nothing but air.

Before Lucius could adjust, Lei struck.

A sharp elbow landed on Lucius’s shoulder, fast and precise. Pain shot through his arm.

Lucius gritted his teeth and spun, unleashing a brutal combo—fists, elbows, and knees. A rhythm honed through years of blood and grind.

Lucius defeated many.

But Lei was something else.

His hands moved like shadows. He didn’t punch hard. He didn’t need to. Every block, every tap, every redirection turned Lucius’s own force against him.

Lucius tried again—a spinning elbow aimed at Lei’s temple.

Crack.

Lei didn’t blink. His palm met Lucius’s chest mid-spin, collapsing his breath in a single thundering hit.

Lucius staggered, coughing hard for breath.

Marcus had sat down again, legs crossed, drink still in hand. "He’s like a child," Marcus said lazily, "A sweaty, angry little child."

Lucius wiped blood from his lip. Eyes blazing. With a grunt, he charged again.

But nothing worked. Lei didn’t break a sweat.

Lucius swung. Blocked. Kicked. Blocked.

Every strike met with soft counters—short, slap, surgical pain. Each punch made Lucius ache deeper with every second.

A slap here. A twist here. And always, always that unshakeable calm.

Lucius’s breathing turned rough.

His white shirt was torn and stained with sweat and blood. One eye had swollen nearly shut. His legs were trembling, but still he kept moving.

His breathing came in ragged gasps.

Still, he lifted his fists.

Marcus sighed, "You are done."

Lucius took one more step. Kneels barely holding. His arms felt heavy. His ribs hurt. His whole body screamed at him to stop.

Lei didn’t wait this time.

He struck once— clean, hard— right across Lucius’s chest.

Lucius choked.

Before he could recover, Lei spun and delivered a palm strike to his jaw.

Boom.

His feet left the floor.

He flew back and crashed against the glass wall behind him—cracks webbing across its surface like ice.

Then silence. His body crumpled. Unmoving.

The only sound in the room was of ice clinking softly in Marcus’s glass.

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Darkness.

Silence.

Then—

A hum. Low and electric. Rising from the base of Lucius’s skull.

[Killer Lust System Initiating...]

Lucius’s fingers twitched.

[Neural sync in progress... Combat regeneration enabled... Hormonal regulators unlocked...]

A strange warmth surged through his veins.

[Primary Directive: Survive. Seduce. Dominate.]

His eyes snapped open— still dazed, still bloody— broken.

But something inside had changed.

A voice whispered in his head—cool and commanding:

[Welcome, Master! Time to wake up the devil.]

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[Author’s Note: This marks the End of Volume - 1. Starting from here, the Chapters are going to be more fast-paced, action packed, More new characters and a lot more unravelling of the mysteries. I hope you enjoyed the story so far. Don’t forget to leave comments and reviews to let me know.]