A Blade Turned Back

Just as he was about to flee, he saw Yana Tyson approaching.

Her figure emerged from the dim light.

Graceful.

Steady.

Her long black hair swayed with the night breeze, strands catching faint reflections from the villa lights behind her. Those bright orange eyes... they didn’t waver. They locked onto the scene ahead with a clarity that felt almost cold.

Lucas’s face lit up with joy.

For a brief, desperate moment, relief washed over him like water in a desert.

Help had arrived!

He shamelessly shouted, voice rough, breath uneven—

"Yana, you’re just in time. Help me deal with this bastard."

The words spilled out without restraint.

Dignity?

Pride?

None of it mattered now.

At this moment, survival mattered more.

He no longer cared how he looked, no longer cared how shameless he sounded. He only knew one thing—he needed her strength. And in his mind, it was obvious.

She liked him.

She would help him.

She had to.

With her fondness for him, she would surely help him strike back hard and join forces against Julian D’Aurelius.

For a fleeting second, Lucas even allowed himself a breath of confidence again.

But Yana didn’t respond immediately.

She stepped closer.

One step.

Then another.

Her heels barely made a sound against the pavement, yet every movement carried weight.

Her expression—

Cold.

Too cold.

Then—

"Alright."

Her voice came out low.

Controlled.

But beneath it... something violent coiled like a storm ready to break.

Before Lucas could process it—

She moved.

With a face full of murderous intent, Yana Tyson rushed to his side and delivered a powerful punch that had been building up for a long time.

It wasn’t a rushed attack.

It wasn’t impulsive.

It was prepared.

Deliberate.

Her fist tore through the air with a sharp whistle—

And slammed straight into his Face.

The impact was brutal.

No hesitation.

No mercy.

The punch landed on the unsuspecting Lucas’s face.

A dull, bone-shaking thud echoed.

His eyes widened.

For a split second, his mind went blank.

Caught off guard by the sudden attack, Lucas was sent flying by the punch.

His body lifted off the ground, control completely lost.

Air rushed past his ears—

Then—

Before he could even react—

Another force came crashing in.

Seeing the opportunity, Julian rushed forward and kicked Lucas, sending him flying once more.

The kick struck clean.

Precise.

Ruthless.

Like a hammer driving him deeper into the ground.

Like a ball, he was hit twice in succession, his body tossed between them with no control, no defense.

A mouthful of blood burst from his lips mid-air—

Dark.

Hot.

Then—

He crashed heavily onto the ground.

The impact knocked the breath out of him.

Dust rose.

His vision blurred.

For a moment, all he could hear was a faint ringing in his ears.

After struggling to get up, his limbs trembling slightly, he forced himself upright.

His chest heaved.

His skull burned.

His insides twisted from poison and impact alike.

And his gaze—

Locked onto Yana.

Shock.

Confusion.

Rage.

All twisted together.

"Why?"

He shouted furiously.

The word came out raw.

Not controlled anymore.

Not composed.

Broken.

This woman—

This woman who clearly liked him—

Why did she betray him?

Why now?

Why like this?

Yana’s expression didn’t soften.

Not even a little.

Her eyes were sharp.

Cold.

And filled with something far deeper than anger—

Hatred.

"Because you deserve to die. Don’t think I don’t know about your plan to harm my father."

Her voice cut through the air like a blade.

Every word carried weight.

Every syllable burned.

Before Lucas could respond—

She moved again.

Yana roared, once again charging at Lucas with a murderous aura.

Her aura surged.

Violent.

Unrestrained.

Like something that had been suppressed for too long, finally unleashed.

Julian, watching from the side, blinked once—

Then grinned faintly.

([Holy shit, she found out?])

([Not bad, I like smart girl’s like her.])

A flicker of satisfaction passed through his eyes.

He had expected complications.

Expected betrayal.

Expected chaos.

But this?

This was perfect.

Hearing Yana’s words, Julian felt a surge of joy in his heart.

Just moments ago, he had been wary—

Worried she might side with Lucas.

That the fight would turn against him.

But now?

The situation had flipped completely.

Seeing her take action, Julian didn’t hesitate.

He stepped in.

Seeing her take action, Julian decisively joined in the fight.

The two of them moved in sync without needing a word.

One attacked high.

The other low.

One pressed forward.

The other cut off retreat.

At this moment, Lucas was filled with overwhelming hatred.

Not just at Julian.

But at Yana.

At himself.

At everything.

His chest burned.

His vision sharpened.

But his body—

Was betraying him.

Facing the attacks of the two, he was in a bad state and suffered greatly.

Each movement felt heavier.

Each reaction slower.

The poison crawled through his veins like fire.

His muscles resisted.

His strength fluctuated.

And every time he tried to counter—

Another blow came.

After a few minutes, he was already covered in several wounds.

Bruises spread across his body.

Cuts split his skin.

Blood stained his clothes.

His breathing turned ragged.

Unstable.

What was even more infuriating—

Was Julian.

That bastard didn’t fight clean.

Didn’t fight straight.

What was even more infuriating was that the guy named Julian was disgusting.

His attacks—

Low.

Dirty.

Calculated.

Damn it, he kept targeting his crotch with vicious attacks.

Every time Lucas tried to regain control—

A sudden strike forced him back into defense.

Every time he tried to breathe—

Another hit disrupted him.

There was no rhythm.

No chance.

Just pressure.

Relentless pressure.

Feeling the injuries in his body worsening, Lucas was truly panicked.

For the first time since returning—

Fear crept in.

Real fear.

He hadn’t brought anyone with him today.

That decision—

Now felt like a mistake.

A fatal one.

The Scythe Division had been sent on a mission to investigate something, and the four of them had reportedly infiltrated a high-end club for their investigation, with no word on their progress.

No backup.

No support.

No one coming.

In this situation where no one could help him—

Internal injuries, external injuries, and poisoning—

Everything stacked against him.

His body trembled.

Not from weakness.

But from the realization settling in.

He deeply felt death beckoning him.

It wasn’t a distant thought anymore.

It was close.

Too close.

Why...

Why, after returning to Europe, had things been so unlucky?