Free Web NovelChapter 204: Chapter 204: Happy, Little Boy?
Chapter 204: Happy, Little Boy?
The timing of the photo was the worst part.
It arrived the instant Elias stepped out of the bathroom, towel in his hand, water still trailing from his hair.
[System Theta: Host, Victoria Frost is watching you.]
Elias looked at the screen for another second, then lowered the phone.
The photo had been taken from behind. Pale skin. Wet hair. The clean line of his back under the bathroom light. No blur. No awkward angle. Whoever had taken it had done so from far enough away to remain safe, yet close enough to make the distance feel meaningless.
He did not panic.
He turned, walked back to the exact place where he must have been standing when the picture was taken, then lifted his eyes toward the window.
Outside, the city was layered in glass and dark. Across the street, a tower rose above the block, each floor broken into cold square panes. One of those panes caught a faint glimmer, too small for an ordinary person to notice.
Elias stared at it.
So she was not even pretending anymore.
A low laugh slipped out of him. "That’s kind of fun."
[System Theta: Fun?]
Elias only smiled. "Watch and learn."
He changed into clean clothes, dried his hair enough that it no longer dripped down his neck, then left the apartment.
A black car waited at the curb downstairs.
Of course it did.
Elias walked over, opened the rear door, and slid inside. The woman in the front passenger seat turned slightly. She was the same bodyguard who had come for Giselle that day, neat suit, controlled posture, pretty face trained into professional calm.
Elias lifted his brows. "You again?"
His tone suggested surprise. His face did not.
The bodyguard smiled. "I came to thank you, Mr. Kane. Because of you, we were able to bring Ms. Frost back without further trouble."
"Don’t thank me." Elias leaned back against the seat. "We’re all just people doing our jobs. Nobody owes anybody."
The bodyguard nodded and did not press.
The car pulled away from the curb.
For most of the drive, Elias stayed quiet. The city moved past the tinted windows in streaks of white, red, and gold. He did not ask where they were going. Victoria Frost did not send cars without knowing the answer to every question before anyone asked it.
Still, when the car finally stopped, he looked out and his eyelid twitched.
A private combat studio.
Elias stared at the signless building for a moment.
What the hell.
He had expected several possibilities. A penthouse. A private office. A hotel suite. Even the Frost residence. He had not expected this.
Was Victoria angry that her precious daughter had gotten into a fight and planning to beat him up for stress relief?
He stepped out of the car and glanced around the street.
The bodyguard seemed to read the thought from his face. Her voice stayed polite. "If you run, I’ll be in a difficult position."
Elias turned back to her and curved his eyes sweetly. "You’ll protect me, right?"
The bodyguard gave him a small bow. "Of course."
Elias smiled.
You had better.
Not that he believed her.
Even if she meant it, she would not dare raise a hand against Victoria Frost. Not for him. Not yet.
There was one exception, of course.
[System Theta: What exception?]
If she fell in love with me.
Then turning against Victoria would become perfectly reasonable.
[System Theta: That... actually makes sense.]
You’re learning.
Inside, the building was almost empty. It was late enough that the front desk had gone dark, though the security system recognized the bodyguard and let them through without a word. The air smelled faintly of mat cleaner, cedar, and air-conditioning. Down the hall, one training room remained lit.
Elias followed the sound.
A low thud. A shift of feet. Breath controlled so tightly it barely counted as noise.
He stopped at the doorway.
Two women stood on the mat.
One circled slowly, looking for a gap. The other remained still, feet planted, body relaxed enough to look almost careless.
Then the moving woman attacked.
She was fast.
Not student-athlete fast. Not gym-class fast. The kind of fast that turned an arm into a blur and made the air crack around it. The strike would have terrified most people on sight.
The woman standing still lifted both hands.
The impact never landed the way it should have. The attack hit her guard and lost its violence, as if the force had been swallowed. A slight turn of her wrists, one clean shift of weight, and the attacker stumbled back several steps before catching herself.
Elias blinked.
This was still a modern world, right?
Please do not tell him this trash novel had hidden superpowers too. A matriarchal dog-blood world was already busy enough. If spiritual energy recovery showed up now, he was filing a complaint with the Bureau. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
Victoria Frost lowered her hands and turned.
She wore a loose white training uniform belted at the waist, the fabric simple and unadorned. On another woman, it might have looked plain. On Victoria, it looked designed around her. The soft lines could not hide the shape beneath them. Her body carried the ease of someone who trained because she had the discipline to do boring things for years, not because she needed to prove she could.
She smiled at Elias with composed elegance. "What do you think?"
"Very impressive," Elias said honestly.
For a second there, he had thought the world was about to become a cultivation novel.
Victoria’s smile deepened. "Not impressive. This level doesn’t require much talent. Time and repetition will get most people here."
Elias walked closer when she beckoned. "Effort is talent too."
How many people could repeat the same dull movement every day until it stopped being a movement and became instinct?
Victoria looked amused by the answer, though not surprised. "Yes. And some people don’t even have that. They wait until they need strength, then regret never building it."
The words were calm.
They were not really about training.
Victoria turned and left the mat. Elias followed her into the outer lounge.
The space was built for expensive privacy. Dark leather benches. A low table. Locked storage along the wall. No staff in sight, though Elias doubted they were truly alone.
Victoria sat first.
She crossed one long leg over the other with the unhurried ease of a woman who knew no one in the room would rush her. She was barefoot from training. The soles of her feet were faintly flushed from the mat, while the high arches remained pale, almost untouched.
Elias glanced once and looked away.
Was this how Victoria behaved in every setting, choosing a different posture for each stage? Or was this one aimed at him?
He did not stare long enough to flatter her.
The truth was simple. Elias’s attention had limits. In this final world, the only women who truly mattered were the targets. Outside of that, even a real goddess could stand naked in front of him and earn nothing more than practical evaluation.
He had seen too many women across too many worlds to be ruined by beauty alone.
Victoria leaned back, graceful and lazy after the fight. "Do you think she lost?"
Elias was silent for a moment. "Not exactly."
Victoria laughed softly.
Then her eyes sharpened.
"She didn’t win," she said. "And if she didn’t win, then she lost."
Elias lowered his lashes.
Sure. Of course. Whatever you say.
He had no intention of arguing with Victoria Frost about her daughter. One rule carried him through most dangerous conversations: reduce presence, reduce friction, survive until the other person revealed what they really wanted.
Victoria watched him for a few seconds, then seemed to lose interest in that topic.
"Forget that little brat."
She said it, then gave a light laugh, as if she found the phrase entertaining. It was Serena’s insult for Giselle, turned over in Victoria’s mouth like a borrowed knife.
Her gaze returned to Elias.
"Tell me, little boy." Her voice softened. "Have you been having fun lately?"
That question was dangerous.
Elias chose silence.
Victoria clearly had no intention of letting him hide in it.
She lifted one pale finger and crooked it at the bodyguard.
The bodyguard approached without a sound, head lowered, and placed something into Victoria’s hand.
Victoria held it loosely, then changed the curl of her finger into a beckoning motion.
"Come here, little boy. Look at this."
Elias walked over slowly.
One step.
Another.
He stopped in front of her and looked down.
His pupils tightened by a fraction.
His expression stayed calm.
In Victoria’s hand lay a tie.
Same color. Same fabric. Same narrow cut.
Exactly like the one Yvonne Quinn had been wearing tonight.
The one Elias had taken.
The one that should not have been in Victoria Frost’s hand.
"Touch it," Victoria said.
Elias obeyed.
He reached out and closed his fingers lightly around the tie, intending to rub the fabric once, confirm the texture, and give himself another second to think.
The other end snapped tight.
Victoria pulled.
Elias lost his balance at once.
He fell forward, caught by the tie before he could correct himself, and landed straight into her lap.
Her arms came around him with practiced ease, soft and firm at the same time.
The scent of clean skin, warm fabric, and the faint heat of recent training surrounded him.
Victoria’s voice brushed his ear.
"Happy, little boy?"
