Font Size
15px

Within the main estate of the Blac family’s main estate, dozens of cars belonging to diplomats, board mbers, officials from various countries, and other delegates now filled the premises.

The overall scene, marked by the presence of highly influential individuals, made it clear that the event which had taken place was of such gravity that it prompted widespread and imdiate action.

Even so, they personally needed to pay a visit to the head of the Blac family.

The mansion itself, a rger of modernity and old nobility—an architectural style favored by the late mistress—stood dignified amidst the commotion.

In one of its hallways walked a man with a mustache, followed closely by five or six individuals holding files and docunts, likely lawyers or representatives from a subsidiary company.

"What did he take?" the head of the Blac family asked, raising a file. His butler, who was walking beside him and keeping a steady pace, guided them toward the hall room where other delegates were waiting, clearly eager for an explanation regarding the incident that had caused so many casualties.

"The young master appears to have taken the late mistress’s necklace," Ermond replied with a professional posture. He walked beside the family head, recalling how, just an hour or two earlier, they had received a call from the young master detailing actions they should take in response to recent events and how to handle diplomatic tensions with the involved countries.

The suggestions provided by the young master were surprisingly thorough—remarkably aligned, in many respects, with the recomndations made by experts on the matter.

There were slight modifications, mainly due to the lack of clear intelligence on the internal struggles within so of the nations involved.

These proposals were cross-verified by the butler through several intelligence sources, confirming that the young master’s advice not only reflected his deep interest in geopolitics but also served the Blac family’s interests strategically.

"...I see," the head of the family murmured, nodding as they reached the main hall entrance.

Standing there, he paused for a mont, gazing at the doors ahead, realizing that his son had grown—not only in age but in wisdom.

He knew now that his son was capable of handling the family’s burdens.

Perhaps it was ti for him to step back, to finally retire.

After all, he had grown weary—ntally and emotionally.

The ntion of sothing tied to his late wife had stirred long-buried mories, and a wave of pain surged through him.

Placing a hand on his forehead, he winced as a headache erged—a physical echo of the helplessness he had felt on the day of her death.

Sotis, those who are wounded appear strong on the outside. That was who he was...

Raekin Blac — Head of Blac Corporation, one of the top 20 richest entities in the world.

But there is a saying: He who controls the money supply of a nation controls the nation—but don’t mistake that for true power. That kind of power dies with the body.

In the face of real forces—sothing far more illogical—money is just paper, and those who worship it are ants pretending to be gods.

He was a man who held the fortune of the world in his hands, yet couldn’t avenge his wife’s death. Nor did he hope to.

He simply couldn’t—not without putting his son’s life at risk.

But now, just after witnessing the cruelty and very strategic approach of Cruxius, there was a fleeting doubt that maybe he had underestimated his son as just a simple playboy while he was honing his mind for sothing big.

’I just hope you don’t walk the path of revenge against those people... son.’

.

.

.

.

Far away, within the borders of the Hero City, a fleet of luxurious cars sped along the highway, slicing through the air.

"Umh... huh?"

Inside one of the moving cars, a woman slowly stirred from her sleep. Her eyes blinked open, erald pupils gradually revealing themselves. As she looked around, her eyes widened—this wasn’t the hotel room where she had fallen asleep. She was inside a car.

’!?’

"Y-you PERVERT!" Thalia shouted at the top of her lungs, glaring at Cruxius. Her mind replayed the events in the bathroom, and her body squird involuntarily with the mory—so vivid and undeniable that her face flushed instantly.

"...Not like you’re any better," Cruxius muttered, leaning back. He looked over at Thalia, who sat across from him. In his hand was a red ruby locket, appearing almost as if made from blood. It had no particular shape, just a rough stone hanging by a thin thread.

"Wh-what?" Thalia stamred, clearly flustered by his confident remark. The mory made her too uncomfortable to sit still. Then, suddenly, a realization struck her.

Her hands shot to her clothes, checking herself—she was fully clothed. The last thing she rembered, she had been naked.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked, his gaze turning toward her. His expression seed genuinely concerned—though in truth, there was no such feeling in his heart. Still, he could at least pretend to be a decent person.

"...Yes. Why does it even matter to you?" Thalia muttered, ignoring the whispers of the other won in the car.

She was well aware of this man’s perverted nature—clearly, the reason he had brought so many won with him.

She folded her arms, turning her gaze away, visibly overwheld and far from impressed by his behavior.

"It matters because Father said he wants to et you," Cruxius replied with a nod.

A slight shift had occurred in his plans—he now realized that the won retained their mories, and he could no longer afford to delay.

The journey ahead was about to face a real obstacle: the remaining woman he may have wronged.

"Eh? Who?" Thalia flinched slightly, startled. She tried to process what he had just said.

"The head of the Blac family wants to et you," Cruxius added. He knew this would overwhelm her. Originally, his plan was to keep her close and slowly manipulate her into a passive, confused state.

But now, with her growing awareness, keeping her close would only make him more vulnerable—and less free to act.

"F-for what?!" Thalia demanded, clearly taken aback. Just monts ago, she had gone from being a damsel in distress—completely misused by one of the most shaless, playboy heirs of a wealthy family—to suddenly being told she was going to et his father?

"For marriage, of course." Cruxius smiled, looking directly at her, fully aware that the revelation would catch her off guard. However, her reaction far exceeded his expectations. Rage visibly bubbled up in her as she snapped.

"First the son, and now even the father!? Tell that old basta—mmph!"

Before Thalia could finish her furious outburst, Cruxius leaned forward and clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide at the absurd direction her thoughts had taken.

"Stop, you idiot. I ant our marriage," Cruxius clarified, raising an eyebrow as he tried to calm her down rather than match her intensity.

"Heh? WHATTT!??", But this ti, the reaction was even more shocking. Her eyes widened as if those erald rubies would pop out of their sockets.

Her mouth was sealed by him, yet the distance between them made his mouth twitch, clearly a nerve popping on his forehead as he felt the itch to teach her a lesson for this overreaction.

’Control, Cruxius, not yet... not yet....’

You are reading My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines Chapter 66 - Goodbye gift for Thalia on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
Share with your friends
Library saves books to your account. Reading History saves recent chapters in this browser.
Continuous reading

You may also like

Big Data Cultivation cover
Similar genre

Big Data Cultivation

Chen Fengxiao ·Fantasy

Asagraduatewithadoubledegreefromaprestigiousuniversity,FengJunsomehowremainsunemployedaftergraduation.Hestrugglesinthecity,buthecan’tletgoofhisprid...

No reviews yet. Be the first reader to leave one.
Please create an account or sign in to post a comment.