Blessed By A Yandere Goddess

Chapter 50: The Neumanns

"Father, how many times have I told you to stop browsing those underground forums? You know the Association has been warning everyone about them ever since the Night Porter incidents started."

Anastasia scolded her father, who sat slumped on the couch with a thoroughly annoyed, dejected look on his face.

Never once, in all his years of exploring deadly dungeons and world-tier gates, had he imagined his greatest challenge would be parenting.

He wasn’t even that old by hunter standards. Hunters didn’t age the same way ordinary people did.

"I’m no longer part of the Association, Annie. Besides, this’ll be good for you. I found you a decent tutor through an old friend of mine on there."

Anastasia looked as if she might blow a fuse at the revelation. Hiring a tutor for the prideful daughter of an S-Rank hunter was one thing. Hiring one from the sketchiest corner of the internet known to man?

Now that was something else entirely.

"F-Father! Have you gone insane?! Don’t tell me you gave our address to—"

DING!

The doorbell rang before she could finish, followed by a voice crackling through the speaker.

"GodBound... this is the place, I assume?"

"GodBound? What kind of name is that?"

Anastasia crossed her arms the instant she heard the absurd name. freewebnσvel.cøm

"Enough whining. Your teacher has arrived."

"W-What?! Wait, we aren’t done with this conversation!"

"Yeah, yeah. I’ll listen after you’re done with your first session."

Her father immediately wove a series of hand signs at blinding speed, humming a faint tune in a foreign language. Before Anastasia could react, vines coiled around her, sending her tumbling to the floor as she squirmed in utter exasperation.

"Father, l-listen to me!"

Her father had already plugged his ears with his fingers as he made his way to the door.

The old man pulled the door open with the casual air of someone welcoming old friends rather than underground contacts he’d never met before.

He was shorter than Ronan expected. S-Ranks tended to loom, either physically or in presence, but this one looked like he’d settled comfortably into retirement.

Gray-streaked hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, weathered skin, and a pair of reading glasses pushed up onto his forehead.

His eyes, though. Those were still sharp. Still tracking every movement Ronan made the moment the door swung wide.

"Zero told me you’d be punctual."

"I try."

Ronan stepped inside, Sarael right behind him. Her shadows were calm, but her violet eyes were already scanning the room with that detached curiosity she usually reserved for things she hadn’t decided were threats yet.

The house was larger than Ronan expected. Wooden floors, exposed beams, and a living room that opened into a wide training space visible through a set of sliding doors.

And on the floor of that living room, tangled in a mess of conjured vines, was a woman around his age with her teeth gritted in frustration.

"I’m going to kill him..."

She muttered, not quite under her breath.

"When I get out of this, I’m actually going to kill him."

"That’s my daughter."

The old man said, gesturing vaguely toward the vine-wrapped figure on the floor.

"Anastasia. She’s got potential, but she’s stubborn. Figured I’d let you introduce yourself before I untie her. Builds character."

"Father, I can hear you!"

"That’s the point, Annie."

Ronan glanced at Sarael. She was staring at Anastasia with an expression he couldn’t quite read. But she definitely seemed to calm down the moment she saw the embarrassing display.

[Pathetic, not even worth his time.]

His system chimed, though he wasn’t sure whether Sarael had meant to show him this one or if it had simply slipped through her control.

Either way, he decided to let the two women settle things between themselves for now.

"You wanted to test my abilities before we start?"

He turned back to the old man.

"That was the idea."

The old man crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"But honestly, I’ve already heard enough from Zero’s warnings about you two."

"Warnings...?"

"While I was browsing for tutors, I asked him to give me a description of each one. Yours caught my eye the most."

He pushed off the doorframe and walked toward the living room, gesturing for Ronan to follow. Sarael stayed close, her hand brushing against his as they moved.

"Here’s the deal. I want Annie trained by someone who isn’t part of the Association’s machine. Someone who knows how to survive outside the system. You fit that profile."

"And the pay?"

"The sword in my armory, and two million in cash. If you were expecting more than what the fixer told you, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. Unless, of course, your performance far exceeds the payment I initially offered."

The old man stopped next to his daughter, who had given up struggling and was now just glaring at the ceiling with the resigned fury of someone who’d lost this argument many times before.

"So here’s the deal. You train her for at least a month. After that, if she wants to continue, we negotiate. If she doesn’t, you walk away with the sword and the money regardless. Fair?"

Ronan considered it. A month of training, an S-Rank weapon, and two million. The risk was low. The only real variable was the woman currently wrapped in vines on the floor.

"Annie, was it?"

She craned her neck to look up at him, her expression caught somewhere between embarrassment and defiance.

"Oh, for God’s sake, Father! He’s literally wearing a cartoonish white mask, and the woman has on a black face mask! They’re the exact opposite of trustworthy!"

Anastasia yelled, but her father wasn’t having it. He was already heading upstairs, leaving them to do their work.

"It’s part of their business. Besides, if they try anything, I’ll know. So don’t worry too much."

"I-I’m not worried about that! I’m worried about you getting scammed out of an S-Rank sword and two million—" fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

She stopped the moment she realized her father had already climbed the stairs and disappeared out of earshot.

"That old man... S-Rank John Neumann, and he can’t even be bothered to listen to his own daughter..."

Meanwhile, Ronan had already taken a seat with Sarael on the couch, waiting for Anastasia to calm down as he casually looked over the furniture.

"So, have you calmed down yet?"

He asked.

"Y-Yeah..."