HEIR TO THE DOJO

The smug got broken

The sheer weight of the turnover along with the frustration and anger of his crumbled plot—had Caspian Roderick trembling with rage.

His fingers dug into his palm, knuckles popping sharply as if they might burst through his skin.

“You dare screw my wife,” he snarled. “And you bastard have the guts to preach nonsense to my ears. I swear—you’re dead.”

He couldn’t even tell what infuriated him more. Ragnar’s maddening calm throughout his tirade? Or the bitterness and frustration of his plan falling apart at the last possible moment?

He could have satisfied his urges with Cassandra, but a worthless nobody had enjoyed the fruits of his efforts instead. He had thrown away a hundred grand just to get the Lustbane smuggled in from Kerala, bypassing security checks and government officials.

Caspian’s anger hit a breaking point. His eyes flushed red with fury. He lunged, swinging his arm wildly to land a punch across Ragnar’s face.

Ragnar didn’t react immediately—not until the very last second. He simply arched back in one swift motion, the strike slicing harmlessly past him.

Caspian faltered, a crooked, bitter twitch pulling at his lips. “You think you’re so damn tough because you dodged a blow?” he sneered, pulling himself upright as his fists curled again. “You’re dead.”

He was about to attack again when...

“Listen,” Ragnar cut him off, stepping forward. His expression stayed composed and unbothered. “You don’t have to do this, man. We’re grown men. We can talk it out and let this slide.” His tone was flat, almost lazy.

“But first—how did you get your hands on that forbidden herb? Lustbane. Rare stuff, banned for years because of its sweet, but deadly juice.” Ragnar tilted his head, a sharp knowing smirk curling his lips. “Or… is that how far you can go to lure a women into your bed?”

Caspian froze. His eyes narrowed. How did some nobody know about his deep shit?!

No ordinary person could identify Lustbane just by checking the victim. He recovered, but his voice cracked, uncertain. “You think you know shit,” he snapped. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’ll ruin your life.”

Ragnar raised a brow. “And who do you think you are?” His tone quietly with no ounce of intimidation. “You’re just another rich pervert. A criminal. A coward with a rotten brain who couldn’t think of any better way to get a woman than using a sleazy trick.”

Caspian’s expression fell flat—like Ragnar had slapped him with a sack of sand. Shame flushed over his face.

His fingers curled, shaking as rage swallowed him whole. He charged again, like a rabid beast, aiming to break Ragnar’s jaw with a punch.

Ragnar swayed aside effortlessly. Caspian missed, stumbling forward. Ragnar ducked and slipped his leg into Caspian’s path. Caspian crashed head‑first into the porcelain sink on the wall with a sickening crack, shattering it to the floor.

Shards dug into his skin, blood streaming from the wounds.

“Aah—!” He winced, pushing himself up with the little strength he had left.

His expensive suit was wrinkled. His thousand‑grand wristwatch lay broken on the tiles, its pieces scattered on the floor like cheap junk.

Caspian Roderick looked like a wreck now—nothing like the arrogant man from minutes earlier.

He forced himself upright, wiping blood from his brow again. “Y–You dare hit me,” he growled, his voice trembling with caution and anger. “You’ve messed with the wrong person. You’re finished.”

His fingers trembled as he yanked his phone from his pocket and jabbed at the screen.

“Security,” he barked. “Restroom. Now!”

He hung up and shoved the phone away, a vindictive smirk twisting his lips. “You’re dead. It’s time you learn who you messed with.”

Within seconds, two security officers in crisp navy uniforms rushed to the doorway, scanning the ruined restroom.

Their eyes paused briefly on Cassandra—still unconscious, breathing peacefully despite the chaos.

The taller officer stepped forward. “What’s going on h—”

“Wrong question!” Caspian hissed, cutting him off. He jabbed a shaking finger at Ragnar. “This bastard is a criminal! He raped my woman. Arrest him now!”

“Once this flight lands, toss him into a filthy hole where he won’t see daylight for a long damn time.”

The officer straightened, brow tightening in confusion at the authoritativeness in his voice. Like he owned the airplane.

He glanced at Caspian—his air of confidence and the arrogant authority in his tone hinted he wasn’t just any passenger. Maybe even someone from first class.

Then his gaze shifted to Ragnar—calm, unreadable, a strange quietness about him. Nothing loud or flashy, but unsettlingly solid.

The officer cleared his throat. “Sir… we can’t conclude that this man committed the crime unless you provide ev—”

“Are you mad?!” Caspian exploded. “Do you know who I am?! My father is the largest investor in this entire damn airline!”

He stepped closer, voice dropping dangerously. “I can make you lose your job right now. You don’t want to cross the Roderick family.”

The officer wavered. The Rodericks owned the airline. One of the ten richest families in the city. Rumors said they held dangerous influence and possesses mysterious power. Getting on their bad side was a straight death sentence.

If this man was truly a Roderick, then not just his job, but his life was teetering on a slim thread.

Caspian pulled out the family sigil, displaying it with a smug flourish.

The officer’s face drained instantly. “Oh—God. I’m… I’m sorry, sir. I’ll handle it immediately.”

“That’s what I thought.” Caspian tugged on his wrinkled suit, confidence flooding back.

He turned to Ragnar. “You’re under arrest for sexual assault.” He gestured to the second guard. “Cuff him. Now."

Ragnar didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. He stared at Caspian—cold, calculating. Caspian grinned, sharp and triumphant like he won at last after his defeat.

The cuffs clicked around Ragnar’s wrists.

“You’re making a big mistake,” Ragnar said quietly. “All of you. And you’re going to regret it.”

Caspian let out a harsh laugh. “The only one who’ll regret anything is you. Enjoy rotting behind bars, scumbag."

Ragnar chuckled low—almost amused. “We’ll see about that.”