Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System

Chapter 165: Poison Turning Upon the Plotter

Poison Turning Upon the Plotter

"Also, that guy named Julian is here too. If he falls for it, arrange for a few ugly women for him to enjoy, take some photos, and post them online."

"Once he’s exhausted, finish him off."

Lucas continued to command, his tone almost casual, as if he were discussing the placement of cutlery rather than a man’s humiliation and death.

Wine shimmered in his glass under the amber light.

His pale face looked calm.

Too calm.

Cold enough to make murder sound refined.

Since the man had delivered himself to their doorstep, he wouldn’t be polite.

Not only did he want Julian dead—

he wanted his reputation dragged through mud first.

Disgrace.

Scandal.

Then death.

That, in Lucas’s mind, was elegance.

As for himself, he would not act personally.

Julian carried that same strange, unknowable aura that still lingered in Lucas’s mind like a wound not healed.

The memory of that punch had never truly faded.

A seemingly ordinary man... yet a fist like thunder.

That danger—

he would let others bear it.

His four loyal Scythe Division subordinates.

To die for him...

that was, in Lucas’s warped thinking, their highest honor.

"Understood, Young Master Lucas," the four replied again in unison.

"Go."

Lucas waved them off lazily.

The four left the suite.

The heavy door shut behind them.

And the smile on Lucas’s lips deepened.

He leaned against the window overlooking Woodland City and murmured under his breath,

"Julian D’Aurelius... let’s see what fate chooses today."

Once outside, Hemil, the leader, immediately took out his phone.

His expression changed the instant they were beyond Lucas’s sight.

Respect vanished.

Contempt remained.

He sent a text message to Julian.

Fast.

Precise.

Then he led the other three down a quieter side corridor where no surveillance reached.

After reaching a hidden corner, Hemil spoke coldly.

"Lucas, that treacherous scoundrel, is plotting against Young Master Julian again."

One of the men spat lightly.

"That snake never learns."

Hemil lowered his voice.

"We can’t give him this chance. Later, we will..."

He whispered a few instructions.

The plan was sharp.

Dirty.

Beautifully dirty.

The other three showed satisfied expressions.

One grinned.

"As expected of our leader."

Another rubbed his hands.

"With this merit, Young Master Julian will definitely reward us."

The third laughed.

"And after earning merit..."

He raised his brows.

"...we hit the club."

Even Hemil smirked.

For a moment, four killers looked more like rowdy brothers conspiring over drinks.

Then they scattered.

Predators entering shadow.

As soon as Julian entered the private room, his phone vibrated.

A message from Hemil.

He glanced down.

Read.

Paused.

Then his expression turned... peculiar.

Almost offended.

(Alright, that bastard Lucas wants to drug me.)

(Drugging is one thing, but arranging ugly women for me? And taking photos?)

(What a despicable act.)

His golden eyes narrowed.

(Luckily, I have a backup plan.)

A faint smile tugged at his mouth.

Bianca, seated beside him, caught the shift instantly.

And though he said nothing aloud—

she already understood enough.

Along the way, she had pieced together fragments.

Lucas.

Schemes.

Poison.

Trap.

And she had already begun a quiet investigation back in Valemont.

Once the threads connected—

she would close the net.

Personally.

Her red eyes glimmered like banked fire.

Julian noticed and murmured under his breath,

"You look murderous."

Bianca smiled sweetly.

"Only professionally."

He nearly laughed.

"What would you two like to eat?"

Thalia handed the menu over, smiling broadly.

Her jeweled fingers brushed Julian’s hand a little too slowly.

And she swallowed slightly while looking at him.

No matter how delicious the food...

it couldn’t compare to a man.

Julian internally recoiled.

(Why does she look at me like a tiger eyeing imported meat?)

Bianca took the menu before Thalia could lean any closer.

Possessively.

Deliberately.

She casually ordered several dishes.

Premium seafood.

Signature roasted meats.

A few symbolic plates for appearances.

But with ulterior motives circling the room—

who truly had appetite?

After ordering, the kitchen moved fast.

Too fast.

Silver carts rolled in.

Steam rose in fragrant curls.

Rare sauces glistened.

Crystal plates caught chandelier light.

The feast was almost theatrical.

A banquet designed to distract.

To soften vigilance.

Julian leaned back and whispered,

"If the poison fails, they might kill us with overfeeding."

Bianca bit her lip to stop laughing.

Thalia mistook it for feminine shyness.

A dangerous misread.

Curiously, Thalia didn’t mention business cooperation.

Not once.

Instead she chatted.

Too much.

Asked about Valemont.

About Julian.

About whether he liked older women.

Julian nearly choked on tea.

Bianca smiled so hard her cheeks hurt.

At one point Thalia asked,

"Young Master Julian, what kind of women do you prefer?"

He answered without blinking.

"Alive ones."

Silence.

Then Bianca burst out laughing.

Even a waiter almost dropped a tray.

Thalia, after a confused pause, laughed too.

Thinking it wit.

Missing the knife hidden in it.

Meanwhile—

behind service corridors—

the trap advanced.

A waiter received a small vial.

Colorless.

Odorless.

Enough to reduce Gold Realm warriors to crawling wrecks.

Hemil watched from shadow.

And quietly switched the marked glasses.

His mouth twitched.

"You scheme against Young Master Julian with drugs?"

He muttered.

"Then enjoy your own medicine."

The other three nearly laughed.

Merit indeed.

--------

Back inside the private room, all dishes had been served.

The aroma of spice and wine floated under soft candlelight.

Outside, rainwater still clung to windows.

Inside—

politeness covered warfare.

Thalia lifted a bottle personally.

Smiled.

And said,

"It’s rare for you two to visit Woodland. We should celebrate properly today."

She poured wine.

Ruby liquid streamed like blood into crystal.

"Let’s have a drink..."

Her smile widened.

"...and discuss business after the meal."

Julian watched the glasses.

Watched the servants.

Watched the smallest hesitation in one wrist.

Enough.

He knew.

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Authors Notes: Dear Readers, Thanks so much for joining me on this adventure! Your enthusiasm, feedback, and encouragement really keep me motivated to keep bringing *Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System* into existence. If you’re loving the Chapters, I’d love it if you supported my book with a Powerstone, review, or even a Golden Ticket—it helps me develop as a writer and lets more readers enjoy the story. I look forward to hearing your ideas and thoughts, so please don’t hesitate to share!

With love,

Saturn_Virgo_777

Creator of Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System

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