Dark Angel's Revenge: Sweet turned Beautiful disaster

15: Subconsciousness

Third Person POV

As the night deepened, the wide mansion was eerily quiet. Everyone was on edge, knowing this moment was inevitable.

“Who was in charge of tonight’s dinner?” the masked man asked, his voice low and menacing.

“I… I… It was me, Master,” a man stammered, bowing immediately.

“Hmm…” the masked man replied, his tone cold.

No one in the mansion dared to make a sound, not even with their breath. The tension in the air grew thicker with every passing second.

“Shifu,” the masked man called. A shadowy figure appeared beside him, kneeling.

“At your service,” the figure named Shifu replied.

“Cut off three fingers,” the masked man ordered, his voice chillingly calm.

“M-Mercy! Please, have mercy!” the chef begged, his voice echoing through the halls.

A loud bang suddenly interrupted the scene.

No, it wasn’t Shifu cutting the chef’s fingers—it was a door flying off its hinges in the corner of the hall.

Everyone gasped, and the masked man’s expression became stiff. His gaze shifted to a small figure walking down the large staircase.

“Everyone, go to your chambers. Don’t just lock the door—move something heavy in front of it. Shifu, that’s an order,” the masked man said, before proceeding toward the descending figure.

“Hey! You!” the girl shouted. “Gimme food!”

The masked man ignored her plea and reached out toward her. But suddenly, the girl grabbed his wrist and swiftly struck at the dangerous point on his neck—a move that could have left him dead if he hadn't reacted in time.

The grand hall filled with tension as the small figure continued her descent, her eyes half-open, locked in a trance. Everyone remained frozen, hearts racing, unsure whether to follow the masked man’s command or watch in horror at what was about to unfold.

The masked man’s gaze fixed on her—she looked so small, so fragile, yet he knew the power she held. The hunger had consumed her again. In this state, she wasn’t just a sleepwalker—she was a martial arts prodigy, driven by an insatiable need for sustenance.

The girl’s glassy, unfocused eyes scanned the room until they landed on the masked man. “Hey! You! Gimme food!” she demanded, her voice both soft and fierce.

He ignored her, reaching out slowly, hoping to subdue her without harm. But before he could react, she moved with a speed even his well-trained reflexes barely caught. Her slender fingers wrapped around his wrist, and with a sharp twist, she sent pain shooting up his arm. Pivoting, she aimed a strike at the nerve in his neck, mere inches from delivering a deadly blow.

The masked man barely managed to block her attack, twisting away just in time. He couldn’t hurt her—he wouldn’t. His movements became a delicate dance of defense as he expertly deflected her strikes. She unleashed a flurry of kicks and punches, each one executed with deadly precision. The masked man’s focus was razor-sharp, his body moving in perfect synchrony with hers as he blocked, dodged, and redirected every attack.

Her speed was breathtaking. Every movement was calculated, every strike designed to incapacitate. She was a whirlwind of force, and the masked man found himself caught in the eye of the storm, fending off the onslaught without getting swept away.

The girl leaped into the air, spinning with a flying kick aimed at his head. He ducked and rolled to the side, his breathing steady despite the danger. He knew that one mistake could be fatal, but he was determined not to let it end that way.

Their battle raged across the vast hall, each step and strike echoing in the empty space. The masked man’s patience wore thin, but he remained calm, waiting for an opening. Then, suddenly, she lunged forward, her hand aimed directly at his mask. He hesitated for just a fraction of a second too long, and her fingers made contact, ripping the mask from his face.

Time seemed to freeze. The girl stopped in her tracks, her breath catching as she looked into his eyes for the first time. His face was striking—sharp, handsome features that seemed almost unreal in their perfection. She blinked, stunned, the trance of her hunger momentarily broken.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, her voice soft and vulnerable. “Be mine.”

For a moment, the masked man hesitated, caught off guard by her words. Then, seeing his chance, he moved swiftly. Before she could react, he pulled her close, tilting her head back as he pressed his lips to hers in a desperate, forceful kiss. Her body tensed in surprise, but her relentless energy began to drain as she struggled to catch her breath.

The kiss deepened, and she fought back weakly, her hands pressing against his chest, but it was no use. The lack of oxygen sapped her strength, and her movements slowed. Gradually, she went limp in his arms, her eyes fluttering shut as she finally succumbed to unconsciousness.

The room fell silent, everyone watching in stunned disbelief. The masked man gently lowered her to the floor, his expression unreadable as he cradled her head in his lap. He glanced up at the remaining onlookers, his voice calm but commanding.

“Shifu, secure the premises. Fix anything that needs fixing before daybreak. Make sure all evidence of tonight’s events is cleaned up.”

He paused for a moment before adding, “Prepare a meal and deliver it to my chambers.”

With that, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. The long, terrifying night was finally over.