Chapter 156: Chapter 156 – Evening Chill in the Park

The evening air in the city park began to bite with a damp chill. I sat on a wooden bench, scuffing my shoe against the gravel path. To fend off the boredom and mild irritation of waiting, I opened the System Interface visible only to me.

________________

NAME: Adam Socheron

CLASS: Depraved Time Lord

LEVEL: 59

EXP: 120/3900

<Strength: 75>

<Agility: 50>

<Vitality: 55>

<Charisma: 9>

<Libido: 100>

Available Stat Points: 20

SKILLS:

[Time Stop]

[Eye of Desire]

[Lustful Touch]

[Fertility Control]

[Mind Control]

[Five-Minute Rewind]

[Dreamweaver]

[Elixir of Bliss]

ITEMS:

[Faceless Mask]

[Hymen Pill]

[Aphrodisiac Elixir]

[Mindrender]

[Dragonroot Rope]

[Aegis Pendant]

[The Edge of Bliss]

[The Fleshcraver’s Loop]

[Ring of Self-Control]

[Key of the Tower of Space]

________________

Twenty unspent stat points. Not bad. I considered quickly. Libido was already maxed out and fairly controlled by the ring. Charisma… that wasn’t important. What I needed was physical prowess, so I decided to distribute them evenly.

[Strength: 75 → 80]

[Agility:50 → 60]

[Vitality:55 → 60]

As soon as the points were locked in, the change was immediate. The muscles in my arms and thighs felt denser, as if their fibers had tightened. My breathing felt lighter and deeper, like my lung capacity had increased.

Good.

I closed my interface and looked up. The sky in the west had shifted from burnt orange to a dark violet, swallowing the last remnants of sunlight. But Sonya was still nowhere to be seen.

I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket. The screen lit up, showing the time: 7:27 PM. She was almost a full hour late. There was an unread chat notification from her. I tapped it.

Sonya: Adam, I’m so, so sorry! One of my patients had a major relapse, it was a complete mess. I’m helping to manage it. Might be another 30 minutes late. Please wait!

Sonya: Heading out now! 15 minutes max!

I sighed. Sonya worked as a nurse at a specialized psychiatric hospital for Hunters—part of the large Hunter Global Association foundation. Her clients were people with extraordinary powers and profound trauma. I could imagine the chaos.

Then there was another message. From Arianna. I opened it.

Arianna: Did you see the news this morning? About the Rutherford family. That… does it have something to do with you?

I replied with an ambiguous answer.

Me: It’s as the media reported.

Arianna: Which version? The one saying the Star Witch threatened them? Or the one saying they were killed by their own maid?

Me: What do you think?

There was a pause of a few seconds.

Arianna: Was it you?

My lips curved.

Me: Who knows.

Arianna: You’re the worst.

The conversation ended there. I turned off the screen and put the phone away, trying to be patient. Five minutes crawled by. I watched a pair of pigeons still scavenging for scraps on the sidewalk and an old man walking his dog home.

Then, finally, she appeared.

From the far end of the path illuminated by park lights, her figure hurried forward. Her steps were rushed, her work bag swinging from her shoulder. As she drew closer under the yellow lamp light, I could see her clearly. And I had to admit, my heart beat a little faster.

She’d clearly just come from work, but she looked far from messy.

Those dark blue high-waisted jeans hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her slender waist and enticing hip line. Her top was a white silk blouse tucked in, layered with a cream-colored tweed jacket that looked warm.

Her brown hair was slightly wind-tousled, a few strands clinging to her flushed cheeks. Her clear blue eyes immediately scanned the area and found me, and when our gazes met, a shy, relieved smile spread across her face.

In comparison, my attire was utterly ordinary: plain black jeans, a simple black short-sleeved t-shirt, and a black leather bomber jacket. But as people often commented, my naturally gray stone hair and sharp amethyst eyes were enough to draw attention.

“Adam! Oh my god, sorry! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed as soon as she reached me, “I’m the one who asked to meet, and I end up ridiculously late. You must have been waiting here forever. Thank you so much for still waiting.”

“Have a seat first,” I said, seeing her slightly out of breath. I patted the bench beside me. “Take a deep breath. You look like you just ran a marathon.”

She nodded quickly and sat down. The distance between us was now just a few centimeters. I could clearly smell her scent: a light, sweet floral perfume mixed with the faint hospital smell of disinfectant and clean linen clinging to her clothes.

“Yeah, I had to jog a bit from the taxi,” she said, taking a deep breath. “It was genuinely chaotic today. The patient I mentioned in chat, his name is Pablo.”

She started telling the story. I listened, while in my head, my thoughts drifted to the strange dynamic between us.

This was our third meeting since I’d jumped through her bedroom window. After I’d appeared in her dreams nearly every night, manipulating her desires, Sonya had finally given in and called to meet. Her goal was clearly to release the unbearable tension. But she’d also stated her boundaries.

She said she didn’t want to jump straight into a serious relationship before genuinely getting to know me as a person outside the bedroom. So, we were in this weird phase: incredibly strong physical attraction, peppered with attempts to get to know each other. An honest approach, when you thought about it.

“So this Pablo,” Sonya continued, her face turning serious, “he’s a former Hunter. His symptoms are very complex: panic attacks, anger outbursts, delusions. Sometimes he attacks people because he thinks they’re his past tormentors.”

“His tormentors?” I asked, curious. The patient situation she described this time had a certain similarity to my own, and I couldn’t help but be intrigued. .

Sonya did occasionally share stories from her work.

“Yeah,” Sonya sighed, her eyes looking into the distance, filled with a social worker’s empathy. “He grew up in an orphanage. But… that orphanage turned out to be hell. They performed inhumane experiments on the children there. Pablo was one of the victims. He was tortured from a very young age.”

“But he was eventually rescued by an HGA extraction team,” Sonya continued, fiddling with the edge of her jacket. “And after that… his life had only one purpose… revenge. He tracked down everyone involved with that orphanage, and…”

She paused for a moment, swallowing hard, “…he killed them. All of them.”

I nodded slowly.

“But the strange thing,” Sonya looked at me now, her eyes showing genuine confusion, “after it was all over, after he got his revenge… his trauma didn’t go away. It actually… got worse.”

I frowned, genuinely curious now. “Got worse? How?”

Sonya shrugged, her expression one of helplessness. “I don’t really understand it either. Maybe… because after his revenge, his life became empty? No purpose left? Or maybe… revenge was just a temporary fix, it didn’t heal the pain, just covered the hole for a while? That’s just my guess, I’m just a regular nurse.”

She was quiet for a moment, then suddenly seemed to realize her story might be too heavy.

“Oh, but don’t worry! I’m fine. Pablo is powerful, he’s an Awakener Rank S, so it was a real mess earlier, but it’s pretty routine for us. Something like this happens almost every day at my workplace. Just today… it was a bit more intense.”

A Rank S, now a wreck in a psychiatric hospital, unable to escape his past even after exacting revenge.

My thoughts raced. Pablo’s story was like a dark, cracked mirror, reflecting a distorted shadow of my own path. Was this what awaited me at the end of my road? Total ruin despite having taken revenge?

But for now, there was something more important right in front of me.

“The important thing is you’re okay,” I said, and this time my voice sounded more sincere than I’d intended.

Then, with a small smile, I steered the conversation elsewhere. “So, after a day like that… are you hungry? Or…”

I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping to a lower, more suggestive tone, “…is there something more urgent than hunger that needs to be released?”

And instantly, Sonya shot me a sharp, wide-eyed look, her cheeks flushing a deeper crimson.

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