RETURN OF THE VENGEFUL GOD OF WAR

Chapter 08

 At the other end of the city, the steady beep… beep… beep of machines echoed through the hospital ward.

On the bed lay Hin, his bones oddly broken beyond repair, tubes running in and out of him, and his rising chest, the only proof that he wasn't dead yet.

His uncle, Roger stood at the edge of the bed, once a feared army commandant, now the iron-fisted leader of underground gangs stretching across the continent.

His shoulders trembled with fury and his teeth gnashed with rage.

His nephew, a boy he had raised like his own, reduced to this wreck. It wasn’t just an insult to Hin. It was a slap in the face of the Hart bloodline.

Roger’s fists clenched so tight the veins swelled like ropes under his skin. His eyes burned with murder.

He turned on the guards trembling at the wall. They had not been able to give any response yet on how they had dared to lay a finger on one of the Harts.

“You,” his voice thundered like cannon fire. 

“Tell me who did this to my nephew!”

The man's words stumbled over each other as he quivered , his throat bobbing as if he were swallowing rocks.

“S-sir, I…I don’t know… I was outside."

Crack!

Before the words could finish, Roger’s hand snapped the guard’s neck like a twig. The body dropped with a lifeless thud.

The others froze, their hearts punching out of their chests, like it would tear.

Everyone knew Roger’s name carried fear across the underworld. But to see him like this, merciless and blood boiling. It was a pure nightmare.

A few moments later, the door bursts open. Roger's personal army stormed in, dragging a man by the collar. The poor bastard was shoved onto his knees, his face pale and he trembled like a leaf.

It was one of the men who had attended the birthday banquet.

The moment he saw Roger, he collapsed fully to the ground.

“Please don't hurt me!" He cried. "I didn't do anything wrong!” he squealed.

Roger didn’t even blink. He grabbed the man by the jaw, yanking his head upward with the raw sense of urgency.

“Tell me who dares touch my nephew or consider yourself as good as dead already."

The man trembled so hard his teeth clattered.

“We…we don’t know him! Nobody does! He just appeared!”

Roger’s eyes narrowed. His fingers twitched, ready to snap another neck.

“But...” the man screamed quickly, desperate to survive. “I know how you can find him! He came because of that ugly-faced monster from the Lart family! If you want him, capture her, I believe he will come crawling!”

Roger shoved the man aside with one push. His hands clenched tightly until the blood drained out, leaving it pale.

“A nobody!!!" His voice thundered through the hall, causing the temperature in the room to instantly drop. "If I can’t crush him yet, then I’ll make him crawl. I’ll make him beg me for death.”

The words weren’t just a threat. They were a vow that was going to shake the city to its roots.

-------------------

Meanwhile, at the Lart family villa, silence hung in the air.

Every jaw dropped when Elara spoke.

Her mother rushed forward, pressing a hand to her forehead to feel her temperature.

“Elara dear, are you ill? Do you even know what you’re saying?” her eyes pierced into Elara's gaze.

However Elara's eyes didn't waver.

Her voice carried a stubborn strength her family had not heard in years.

“I’m fine. And I’ve never been more sure.”

When no one had treated her with a touch of kindness, when to everyone in the city she was a freak, a laughingstock. Adrian had seen her pain, and instead of mocking her, he had chosen to stand with her, and warmed his way into her heart.

“He must have bewitched you!” her sister Barbara spat, fury twisting her face. She stepped forward, ready to tear into Adrian.

Elara snapped back, louder than anyone expected.

“Nobody bewitched me. This is my decision!”

Adrian stepped closer, his hand slipping into hers, steady and warm. His gaze swept the room with a strange calm that sent chills down their spines.

“Elara has chosen. I will marry her. And no one here will stop it.”

The words hit the family like a slap across their proud faces.

Lady Ann's expression darkened, bitterness dripping from her voice.

“Elara, don’t be a fool! With your restored looks, you can have any man in this city, generals, billionaires, even the rumored Shadow Monarch himself! Do you understand what you’re throwing away?!”

She turned her glare on Adrian, her lips curling with disgust.

“And instead, you choose… this nobody?”

Elara’s father, Sir Frank, exhaled heavily, his tone cutting like a blade.

“This family will never allow such shame. A son-in-law must elevate us, not drag us down, into the mud."

Elara’s heart twisted, but Adrian’s grip on her hand only tightened.

“Adrain is kind! He has a good heart and he lives well." Elara was beginning to waver as she tried to explain to them.

Sir Gate’s eyes turned ice cold and his words thundered through the hall.

“It is not enough.”

Adrian stepped forward, calm, his voice carrying the quiet dominance of a man who bent armies.

“I am ready to do anything to prove my worth, for Elara... Anything ”

The hall buzzed. The family scoffed. But Sir Gate’s lips curved into a sly smile.

“You say you’ll do anything? Very well. Before a man can be called the son-in-law of the Lart family, he must prove himself. Bring us a partnership with Express Medical Corporation. Only then will I acknowledge you.”

Gasps exploded across the hall.

Express Medical wasn’t just some company, it was the giant that dominated 90% of the pharmacy market. Even major families like the Bert clan fought fiercely to secure a deal with them. And here Sir Gate was, tossing it out as if it were a simple errand.

Everyone knew what it meant: an impossible task designed to humiliate Adrian and crush his spirit

Elara’s voice cracked with anger.

“Father, that’s outrageous!”

But the rest of the family sneered, their smiles sharp as knives. They wanted to see Adrian crawl. They wanted to see him broken.

Adrian’s eyes, however, remained with a strange calm and an unshaken resolve as he spoke.

“How long?” he asked.

Sir Gate smirked. “Thirty days. Fail, and you’ll never set foot here again.”

Adrian’s lips curved with a chilling smirk that made the room quiet, their ears lingering with anticipation for his response.

“Thirty days is too long. You’ll have your contract… tomorrow.”

The hall fell dead silent.

Then chaos shattered through every corner like a wave.

“Is he insane?!”

“Express Medical in one day? Impossible!”

Elara’s family sneered louder, convinced they had exposed Adrian as a delusional fool. Or as they earlier thought, he was mad.