In Another World, All Milfs Will Be Mine-Chapter 149: [ - - ] - The aftermath (Part - 1)

Leo leaned heavily against the oak desk, his chest heaving. The adrenaline that had allowed him to stand his ground was draining away, leaving behind a cold, trembling reality.

He gripped his left forearm. The assassin’s blade hadn’t gone deep, it was a glancing blow. But it felt like someone had pressed a branding iron against his skin.

He closed his eyes for a second. A clock appeared in the darkness in front of his eyes.

[System Reboot: 17:58:12...]

Eighteen hours.

For eighteen more hours, he was vulnerable. He was a human with a fancy title, a lot of enemies, and a body that bruised like a peach. If a second wave came right now, Leo knew with terrifying certainty that he would die.

Seraphine tore a long strip of white silk from the hem of her nightgown, "Sit down. You’re bleeding all over the rug."

Leo sank onto the leather sofa, grinning ear to ear, "It’s fine. It’s just a scratch."

"It’s a cut," Seraphine corrected sharply, grabbing a pitcher of water to clean the wound, "And you aren’t invincible right now. Stop acting like it."

She pressed the wet cloth to the gash. Leo hissed, his back arching off the sofa. It burned. It burned like hell.

He had forgotten what real pain felt like. For weeks, he had been tanking hits from Ogres and Bandits, his HP bar dropping while his body barely registered the trauma. Now, a simple knife wound made his vision swim with black spots.

"It needs stitches," Seraphine murmured, leaning close. Her golden hair fell over her face, hiding her expression, but Leo could see a tear tracking down her cheek, "I was taught embroidery in this castle. Flesh isn’t so different from silk, is it?"

"Just do it," Leo groaned, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling. "Before I pass out from the fun of it."

While Seraphine worked, her needle piercing his skin with agonizing precision, Leo forced his eyes open. He looked around the room.

Belladonna was prowling among the corpses. The Bandit Queen was untouched, her movements fluid and predatory. She wiped her daggers on the cloak of the man she had gutted, her face a mask of cold satisfaction.

"How does it look" Leo rasped.

"Six dead inside," Belladonna reported, her voice calm, devoid of the panic that Seraphine showed. "Shadow took down three in the hall. Two climbers on the outer wall. Total of eleven."

She walked over to the leader of the assassins—the big man she had stabbed through the chest. She nudged him with her boot, flipping him over.

"Professionals," she noted, looking at his gear. "Standard mercenary leathers. No guild markings. No tattoos. Clean blades."

She knelt down and cut the purse from his belt. She loosened the strings and dumped the contents onto the blood-stained floor. Gold coins spilled out, ringing clearly in the quiet room.

Belladonna picked one up. She held it to the firelight, squinting. Then, she let out a low, dark chuckle.

"Arrogant prick," she whispered.

She flipped the coin to Leo. He caught it with his good hand, fumbling slightly.

It was a standard gold crown, heavy and yellow. But on the reverse side, where the King’s profile usually sat, there was a clumsy, heavy stamp mark that had been hammered over the original design.

A Wolf’s Head.

"Volkov... Shssh!" Leo spat the name, "Ehhh! that idiot paid them with his own minted gold."

"He wanted you to know," Seraphine said, tying off the final stitch on Leo’s arm. She bit the thread to cut it, spitting the fiber out, "He wanted to show off that on your last breath, you died knowing who did it."

"He is telling us he can touch you in your own home."

"Arrogant prick!" Belladonna said, standing up and pacing. "Using stamped gold? If we took this to the King’s Inspector, Volkov would be hanged for treason."

"The Inspector isn’t here yet," Leo said, sitting up. The pain in his arm had settled into a dull, throbbing ache, but the bleeding had stopped, "And if we wait for the King’s justice, we won’t escape the heat as well."

He tossed the coin onto the table. It spun and rattled before settling, the wolf’s head staring up at them.

"So we wait?" Belladonna asked, "Do you want to recover first?"

"When you... recover... you can walk through his front door and rip his head off with your bare hands."

"If we wait, he wins," Leo countered. He stood up, but he swayed slightly. But Shadow, who had appeared silently by his side steadied him.

"Think about it," Leo continued, his mind racing faster than the pain, "He sent these men for the opening performance."

"If they don’t report back, he will know they failed."

"And then he might send a second wave or run away in the darkness of the night."

"We can’t afford a siege like situation. And we definitely can’t afford another night like this."

"We can handle it," Belladonna looked at Leo with a haughty look, "They got lucky this time. Next time, they won’t be able to enter the castle, let alone this room."

Leo smiled looking at Belladonna. He did not doubt her. But who said the next wave won’t be stronger. Sooner or later, Bella, Shadow and the Blackfangs are going to be worn out.

"I know. I know My Bella is strong," Leo could not help but praise the Bandit Queen, "But we don’t bring sword to every fight."

"Then what do you have in mind?" Belladonna asked, hands on her hips.

Leo said. "We let him sweat. Let him spend the night wondering why his assassins haven’t come back."

"And we let him see what we want him to see."

"Tomorrow, I will settle it for once and all," Leo decided.

"You want to bluff?" Belladonna realized, a smirk touching her lips.

"I need to look our dear Baron in the eye... and make him understand the itch I have in my hand. With Love!"

"But first, we need to sell the lie. Tell Bane and Malcom to start making noise. Burn some sacks. Bring out some coffins. Move some crates."

"Act suspicious."

"Suspicious?" Belladonna tilted her head.

"Make it look like a cover-up," Leo explained.

"Make Volkov’s spies think we are panicking."

"If Volkov thinks we’re chaotic and disorganized, he’ll get overconfident. He’ll wait for us to implode."

Belladonna’s grin widened. It was a sharp, dangerous expression. "Misinformation. I like it. I’ll make sure the rats hear exactly what you want them to hear."

She turned and slipped out of the room, stepping over the bodies as if they were nothing more than uneven paving stones.

"Come," Seraphine said, taking Leo’s good arm, "We can’t sleep here. The smell is... awful."

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