Ethan stepped out onto the balcony, the fresh air hitting his face for the first time in two weeks. Below him, workers were busy patching the final scars on the mansionâs exterior, their movements rhythmic and distant.
Suddenly, he felt it. It wasnât the violent, crushing killing intent of the invisible assassin. This was differentâa faint, almost delicate sensation, like a soft breeze brushing against his skin. To anyone else, it would have been nothing, but through his Amethyst Eyes, the world began to vibrate.
He turned his head slightly. The air in front of him wasnât empty; it was distorted, like heat rising off asphalt, a tiny ripple in the fabric of the space he now understood so well.
"You look very calm, considering half the underworld is hunting for your head, you know," a voice said.
The sound was disorienting. it felt as if he were standing in the center of a deep canyon, the words bouncing off the walls from every direction at once, making it impossible to pin down a source with normal ears.
Ethan didnât look directly at the ripple yet. He kept his gaze on the horizon, his voice steady. "May I know who Your Excellency is, and to what I owe the honor of this visit?"
Then, he shifted his eyes. He locked his amethyst gaze directly onto the distortion.
For a moment, the ripple shivered. If Ethan could have seen through the veil, he would have noticed a playful smirk vanish, replaced by a look of genuine admiration. The intruder couldnât believe he was looking straight at her.
The distortion suddenly flickered, reappearing five meters to his left. "Youâre much more interesting than I thought..." the voice said playfully.
Ethan turned his head again, tracking the ripple with pinpoint accuracy. This time, the voice lost its distorted, echoing quality. It sounded clear, feminine, and profoundly surprised.
"It is impressive that you can locate me so quickly. There is no doubt you are a true genius," the voice said.
A woman stepped out of the distortion as if walking through a silken veil. The air smoothed over behind her. "It seems hiding from you is a waste of time," she said the woman.
Ethan recognized her instantly. The elegant poise, the cold authorityâit was the Matriarch Blackwood. She was the woman responsible for more chaos in the underworld over the last century than any war or famine. She was a living legend, and a nightmare for anyone standing in her way.
Ethan immediately lowered his head in a respectful bow. "Greetings, Matriarch Blackwood. It is a pleasure to welcome you to my humble home. To what do I owe the great honor of your visit?" Ethan said.
He kept his tone humble, his posture non-threatening. Every instinct he possessed was screaming. The danger radiating from this woman was on a different scale entirely; compared to her, the assassin from the docks was a child with a toy.
"I am very flattered that the young man still remembers the name of this old woman," said the Matriarch.
"How could you say that? The honor is mine, that someone so important would come to visit me in my humble home," Ethan said.
The Matriarch waved a hand dismissively. "Letâs leave the false pretenses aside. There is no need for that. Itâs better if we speak directly and frankly," said the Matriarch.
"Of course, as you wish," Ethan said.
The Matriarch sat in a small chair on the balcony and crossed her legs. Ethanâs vision, fueled by the Amethyst Eyes, was too powerful to be restrained. In a fraction of a second, his sight bypassed the fabric of her skirt, catching the detail of black lace underwear. The clarity was so intense he could see the fine hairs adorning a small, pink pearl.
Feeling Ethanâs gaze, the Matriarch didnât take offense. She let out a soft laugh and stood up, closing the distance between them. She placed a single finger on his chest.
"It seems your sight is sharp. Answer honestly: am I waxed? Or do I still have my lovely hair decorating my pussy?" the Matriarch said.
Ethan hesitated for a heartbeat. He knew he had been caught in the act, and lying to a woman like her was a death sentence. He decided to meet her boldness with his own.
"You have a lovely trimmed bush, decorating your garden," Ethan said.
The Matriarch laughed and suddenly pressed her hand against Ethanâs chest. The "light" push sent him flying backward with the force of a wrecking ball. He slammed into the stone railing, the impact echoing like a thunderclap across the estate.
The sound alerted everyone. Below, the security teams froze before jumping into action. The alarm blared through the speakers. Jason, who had been in the middle of eating a croissant, dropped his food and sprinted toward the stairs the moment he heard over his earpiece that âAlphaâ was compromised.
Dozens of armed guards and specialized units rushed toward the balcony, but Ethan raised a bloodied hand and roared.
"Fall back! Nobody come closer! That is an order!" Ethan shouted.
The soldiers hesitated, trapped between their instinct to protect their leader and the absolute authority in his voice. Seeing the danger but forced to obey, they slowly began to retreat, weapons still raised but keeping their distance.
The Matriarch chuckled. "Itâs been a long time since anyone dared to flirt with me, you know? Iâm sorry if I hurt you; it was a reflex," the Matriarch said.
Ethan stood up, brushing dust off his shirt. "Do not worry, Your Majesty. It was just a small scratch," Ethan said.
The Matriarch watched him rise. He had no visible injuries. Inside, she was deeply impressed. She hadnât merely "pushed" him; she had used 50% of her power to test his limits. She wanted to see if he would be gravely wounded or if he would lash out in a hostile panic. To see him standing perfectly fine meant she had underestimated him significantly. She realized that to truly take him down, she would likely need her full strengthâand even then, she wasnât entirely sure she could overwhelm him.
In her heart, Ethanâs prestige shifted from a "promising talent" to a "peer."