Obsessive Gacha System

Chapter 6: Assassination

A guard’s voice tore through the mansion. "Enemy attack!"

The cry shattered the silence. Lights flickered on. Doors burst open. Men and women in battle robes flooded the courtyard.

Above the mansion, a young man appeared out of thin air. Seven figures in black cloth surrounded him instantly, moving like shadows given flesh. Only their eyes showed.

The young man was handsome, with black hair and sharp eyes that bore a clear resemblance to Lucien. David Veyrion. Head of the Veyrion Clan.

He didn’t flinch. "Bold," he said quietly. "Very bold."

The seven figures didn’t back down. They charged at him.

Outside, steel met steel.

Lucien barely looked up from his status screen. "Who would be stupid enough?" he muttered.

The Veyrion Clan was one of the hidden clans of Aethelgard. From the old texts he had read, they ranked among the top forces of humanity. Hidden. Powerful. Rarely challenged. Someone was either very brave or very foolish.

A knock at the door. "Young master."

He knew that voice. He opened the door.

Lisa stood there in her maid’s clothes, her hand still raised. When she saw him, her shoulders dropped. "Thank the ancestors," she breathed.

Lucien chuckled at her worry. "Who has the guts to attack the mansion?" He shook his head.

"Still unknown, young master. But the master is already dealing with them."

"What about mom and eldest brother?"

"Madam sent me to check on you." She paused. "She was... insistent."

His eyes narrowed. His mother would never send a maid in a crisis. She would come herself. His fragile body had always made her hover.

He didn’t think much of it. He turned his back and walked to his bed.

Ding.

[Detecting killing intent within 20m of Host.]

The sudden system prompt made Lucien’s body shake. He heard something slice through the air.

Sensing the immediate danger, his heart pumped faster as adrenaline surged.

With his improved stats, he narrowly dodged the threat, moving to the side.

His clothes were torn. He realized what it was.

A knife.

His eyes snapped to his back. Her hand was no longer empty.

A knife was there.

Lisa stood shocked, staring at the blade in her hand. Lucien’s movement was strange to her.

How could he dodge her attack, even a sneak attack?

Wasn’t Lucien a fragile mortal?

Was the information wrong?

Her mind spun. Why? The thought cut through Lucien’s shock. Lisa had served him for years. She had brought him soup, read him stories. Now she held a knife to his throat.

He pushed the hurt down. No time.

Without a second thought, he equipped the Fang of the Unnamed Dark.

Lisa stopped her thoughts. Her mission was important.

Her gaze settled on Lucien. She struck with the knife again.

As she attacked, Lucien didn’t move from where he stood.

At the last moment, he sidestepped. Her blade sliced empty air.

But as her arm passed close to his skin, she felt it. Heat. Scorching heat. A red welt bloomed on her wrist.

She gasped and leaped back, clutching her burned arm. Her eyes were wide. "What—"

Lucien stood still, calming his heart. His gaze locked on her. With his enhanced stats, he could dodge and counter.

He had forgotten about Ember Touch. A smile tugged at his lips when he saw the burn on her wrist.

Lisa stared at the red welt. Strange. Impossible. Was this the same young master she had cared for?

She didn’t believe it. She didn’t want to.

But doubt crept in.

Lucien knew he couldn’t last long. He had to survive until reinforcements arrived. No one had come. Lisa must have done something.

Their gazes met. Hers was serious. His was cold.

Lisa moved again.

She struck with her knife. Lucien met her blade head-on. He didn’t retreat.

CLANG!

The sound of metal clashing echoed. Then a crack. The knife in her hand shattered. A cut appeared on her palm.

She grimaced. Her eyes went to the short blade in Lucien’s hand. The Fang of the Unnamed Dark. She hadn’t felt its presence at all. No weight. No aura. It looked common, yet it gave her chills.

He had drawn her blood. The fragile young master had made her bleed. Rage replaced her shock.

Originat exploded from her body. The air grew heavy. Lucien’s limbs locked. He couldn’t move. The pressure was crushing.

Lucien was shocked by her Originat’s might. Thorns erupted from her body, coiling around her like a second skin.

She was at least at the Initiate Realm. Maybe Origin. Either way, he was helpless.

She struck again. Her speed doubled. He couldn’t track her. All he saw was a blur. Then her fist slammed into his face.

He tumbled into the bedside table, coughing up blood. Splintered wood and shattered glass surrounded him. All strength left his body. freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Lisa walked toward him. Her face was cold, almost creepy.

The thorns around her body extended, surrounding him, holding him in place. The barbs pricked his skin.

"Any last words, young master?"

Lucien sighed inwardly. So he couldn’t escape the shadow of death. Even after awakening the system, had his fate not changed?

Anger and helplessness swirled inside him.

He could only watch as the thorns squeezed harder, the barbs piercing through his skin.

David was surprised by the opponent’s strength, which had kept him pinned for several exchanges. He swung his sword, releasing a massive wave of Originat, but the seven figures deflected it with practiced ease. They seemed to have a grasp of his strength and skills, countering every move before he could complete it.

What is their goal? he wondered silently.

Each of the seven was a cultivator at the Throne Realm. Powerful. Coordinated.

David’s sword moved like lightning, but the seven figures matched him blow for blow. Their coordination was flawless. Every strike he aimed was deflected. Every opening he found was closed before he could exploit it.

Then, as suddenly as it began, they stopped.

"Family Head David, we will meet again."

A cold, dark laughter echoed from the shadows. The seven figures melted into the darkness and vanished.

David’s expression didn’t change. He could track them, but chasing would cost too much.

BOOM!

His head snapped toward the sound. Flames rose from a familiar quarter of the mansion.

His heart wrenched. The strange assassins hadn’t come to kill him. They had come to distract him while someone else assassinated his sons.