Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System

Chapter 167: Fire Behind Soundproof Walls

Fire Behind Soundproof Walls

Soon, the sound of a woman crying out and a man’s hoarse groans surged from the suite.

It rose in waves.

Wild.

Unrestrained.

Almost theatrical.

What began as muffled noise turned into chaotic passion crashing against the quiet dignity of the luxury floor.

"Good heavens—what in the world is happening in there?" someone muttered from down the corridor.

Another guest whispered, scandalized and fascinated at once, "Is someone fighting... or making up after a war?"

Even Julian, had he heard the first burst, might have called it karmic opera.

Inside the room, voices overlapped in feverish confusion, furniture scraping, startled cries mixing with breathless sounds neither subtle nor civilized.

This was a six-star hotel, and the rooms had excellent soundproofing.

Normally.

Very normally.

But tonight nothing could stop this high-decibel uproar.

It punched through doors and walls, spilled into the hallway, and disturbed guests on both sides of the floor.

A woman in silk pajamas opened her suite door and frowned.

An older businessman stepped out holding a glass of whiskey, listening with stunned disbelief.

Someone whispered, "I’ve lived sixty years and never heard anything like that."

Another answered dryly, "Then tonight your education expands."

The first to react were the nearby guests.

They had lived their entire lives without ever hearing such commotion.

It was overwhelming.

Chaotic.

Almost absurd.

And yes—

to some ears it sounded less like romance and more like someone wrestling destiny.

Within minutes, quite a few people had gathered in the corridor.

Curiosity was stronger than manners.

Phones almost came out.

Whispers spread.

Betting even began.

"Newlyweds."

"No, definitely a scandal."

"No, rich people rituals."

The hotel manager, upon receiving news, hurried over in cold sweat.

Seeing a crowd outside a presidential suite nearly made his soul leave his body.

Hearing the noise, he braced himself and knocked.

Softly at first.

Then harder.

"Guests... could you please keep it down a bit?" he called.

For a heartbeat, silence almost came.

Then the sounds resumed.

And somewhere through it all came a vaguely furious shout:

"Get lost!"

The manager froze.

Then stepped back at once.

"Yes. Of course. My apologies."

He dared not say another word.

Guests who could afford this suite were people he absolutely could not afford to offend.

One old man near the wall coughed and muttered, "Youth is frightening."

A younger guest replied, "That doesn’t sound like youth."

The corridor nearly broke into suppressed laughter.

Meanwhile, the four Scythe Division men stood outside in the hallway, watching everything unfold.

Hemil, their leader, grinned so hard his face nearly split.

Trying to mess with Young Master Julian?

He almost snorted.

Today, let’s see you and this fat pig lady ignite like dry wood meeting fire.

One subordinate leaned closer and whispered, "Boss... this medicine works terrifyingly well."

Hemil folded his arms.

"With villains, one should always overprepare."

"Boss, what do we do now?" another asked in a low voice, seeing the plan had succeeded.

"Don’t worry," Hemil said confidently.

"If Lucas asks later, we’ll just say it was that woman’s doing."

He shrugged.

"She flirts with him daily. Everyone sees her intentions."

"Blaming her is perfectly reasonable."

The others stared in admiration.

"Boss, you’re brilliant."

Thumbs rose.

Hemil answered with one of his own.

"Brothers, stay strong."

Then, as if reciting sacred doctrine, all four whispered in unison:

"For Young Master Julian’s glory!"

And nearly burst laughing.

Just then, Julian, coming up from downstairs with Bianca, suddenly sneezed.

He rubbed his nose.

"...Someone is praising me behind my back," he muttered.

Bianca looked sideways at him, amused.

"Or cursing you."

"Usually both."

They stepped from the elevator.

And immediately heard the uproar.

Julian stopped.

Listened.

Then slowly raised a brow.

"...Effective."

During dinner, the Scythe Division had quietly come to ask his opinion.

He had considered.

Then decided.

Repay Lucas in his own way.

So he had them turn the tables.

Drug Lucas instead.

Julian had to admit—

using a snitch wisely saved time and effort.

It was almost elegant.

Hearing the passionate cries from the suite, Julian sighed with mock solemnity.

"I really am repaying evil with good."

Bianca bit her lip to stop laughing.

Because she knew exactly what kind of "good" he meant.

As for killing Lucas... Julian felt that was too much.

In a way, the man was still Fortune’s Chosen.

Some strange Black Dragon Gem inheritance.

Those people rarely died conveniently.

And with peak Silver Realm combat power, if Lucas truly wished to flee, they likely couldn’t stop him.

Better to break pride first.

Humiliation often cut deeper than blades.

Bianca asked, feigning innocence despite already knowing the truth,

"What’s going on?"

Her red eyes sparkled far too mischievously for a truly clueless woman.

Julian caught it.

But only smiled.

"Nothing much," he said gleefully.

"People who love passionately shouldn’t hold boundaries."

Bianca almost laughed aloud.

Then leaned close and whispered,

"If that’s your philosophy..."

She let the words trail.

Julian coughed.

(Absolutely do not continue that thought.)

(Especially not with her pressed against my arm.)

Bianca heard enough of the unspoken to nearly lose composure, though she revealed nothing.

Never would.

One guest nearby recognized Julian and whispered to another,

"Isn’t that the D’Aurelius heir?"

The other looked between Julian’s calm face and the chaos behind the door.

"...Then this night is truly educational."

The manager approached timidly.

"Sir... would you... happen to know the guests inside?"

Julian considered.

Then answered gravely,

"I know only that destiny is loud tonight."

Even Hemil had to turn away to hide laughter.

Inside the suite, the storm continued.

Outside, scandal thickened.

Bianca slipped her arm tighter around Julian’s.

Warm.

Soft.

Possessive.

He looked down.

She only smiled.

"Come," she said.

"Let’s leave lovers to their... boundaries."

Julian nodded.

Though before walking away he cast one final glance at the suite door.

And almost, almost felt sympathy.

Almost.

Then Hemil whispered as Julian passed,

"Young Master, was the medicine dosage... sufficient?"

Julian gave him a look.

From behind the door another dramatic cry rang out.

Julian replied dryly,

"I think your question has been answered."

The four nearly collapsed trying not to laugh.

And as Julian walked down the corridor with Bianca beside him, the uproar behind them continued like thunder trapped in silk.

Woodland City glittered outside the windows.

Schemes had turned.

Hunters had become prey.

And somewhere above all of it, fate itself seemed to be laughing.