Road To Revenge: Obtaining a villain system

006. Blue Estate

The last thing Niccolo remembered was the taste of blood in his mouth and the roar of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He was angry, angrier than he’d ever been. Somewhere in the haze, there had been shouting, the clatter of furniture breaking, and then two more deafening gunshots.

Then… nothing.

When he regained consciousness, he did so slowly, like light filtering into a dark, abandoned room. His head was pounding, and the coppery scent of blood hung heavy in the air. He blinked several times, trying to piece together what happened. The apartment looked like a hurricane had ripped through it. Tables split in two, chairs reduced to splinters, curtains hanging in tatters. The floor was littered with overturned bottles, broken glass, and the battered, bloodied bodies of six men. They were breathing —barely— but they were very much unconscious.

Niccolo’s chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths. He didn’t remember fighting them, but deep in his gut… he knew. He could feel the soreness in his knuckles, the faint tremor in his hands, and the strange heat still surging through his veins. Somehow, against all odds, he had done this.

The only sound in the room was the faint, choked sobbing from one corner.

Niccolo turned his head slowly, scanning the shadows until his eyes fell on her. A girl —small and slender —huddled against the wall as if she were trying to make herself invisible. She was trembling, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her long blonde hair was tangled and matted, a few strands sticking to her tear streaked face. There were faint bruises along her cheekbone and a split in her lower lip, but even through the dirt and the fear, her beauty was striking.

Her eyes— large, round, and impossibly blue —locked on him. They had the same glassy sheen as porcelain, fragile and pure, giving her an almost unreal quality. Paired with her delicate features and small pink lips, she looked more like a hand drawn anime heroine than someone who belonged in this grim, blood soaked scene.

For a few tense seconds, neither of them moved. She studied him, her gaze flicking from his face to his hands, as if weighing whether he was just another threat.

Niccolo’s voice was low but steady. “You alright?”

The question seemed to break her. Her lips trembled, her chest hitched, and then —like a dam bursting— she burst into tears. The sound was raw, unrestrained, the kind that came from deep in the chest. She scrambled toward him, clutching at his shirt as if afraid he might vanish.

“You— You saved me,” she choked out, her voice shaking. “If you hadn’t come… I—” She couldn’t finish, her sobs swallowing the words.

Niccolo stood awkwardly, unsure how to respond. Comforting people had never been his strength, but he patted her back stiffly.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes glistening. “I swear I’ll reward you for this. Anything you want. Please… come with me to my house. I— I owe you my life.”

Niccolo frowned, ready to decline. He didn’t know this girl, didn’t know what kind of trouble she was in, and the last thing he wanted was to get dragged deeper into something messy. “I don’t think—”

“Please,” she interrupted, her grip tightening. “You don’t understand. I need you to come with me.”

Her desperation was so palpable that it made him pause. The truth was, he didn’t really have anywhere else to be. Kimberly had made sure of that. No home, no job —no reason to refuse. He exhaled slowly.

“…Fine.”

The tension in her shoulders eased instantly. Without another word, she took his hand and led him out of the wrecked apartment.

★★★

The city air felt different the moment they stepped outside, cleaner, lighter as if the darkness of the apartment had been left behind. They got in a taxi and rode in silence for a while until a towering gate came into view.

Niccolo’s brain stopped working for a second.

Blue Estate.

Everyone in Westview knew the name. It wasn’t just a neighborhood —it was the neighborhood, a walled paradise where only the richest of the rich lived. The kind of place with private security, manicured lawns, and houses worth more than entire city blocks. The mayor lived here. So did a few oil tycoons and a tech billionaire whose face was on magazine covers.

The uniformed guard at the gate looked at Niccolo with a frown, his eyes sweeping over Niccolo’s torn shirt, blood smeared hands, and scuffed boots.

“What’s your business here?”

Niccolo opened his mouth to speak, but the girl stepped forward first. “He’s with me,” she said, her voice calm but commanding.

The guard blinked, his whole demeanor shifting in an instant. The suspicion melted from his face, replaced with something closer to respect.

“Of course, Miss Shaw. My apologies.”

Miss Shaw? Niccolo’s mind filed the name away instantly.

Another guard appeared, this one driving what looked like an oversized, luxury golf cart— sleek, spotless, and custom built. “Allow me to take you home Miss,” the driver said with a polite nod.

Niccolo climbed in beside her, still trying to process the sudden change in atmosphere. The moment the gates closed behind them, the world transformed.

The road curved gently through tree lined streets, each side flanked by sprawling mansions with gleaming glass windows and driveways big enough to host concerts. Lush gardens overflowed with exotic flowers, and modern sculptures dotted the lawns. It was so quiet here that it almost felt like another planet, far away from the cramped, noisy streets Niccolo was used to.

As they drove deeper, the houses grew larger, more elaborate. When they finally reached the end of the road, Niccolo saw it— the last house. No— estate. The place was massive, with grand white columns at the entrance, balconies draped with ivy, and windows tall enough to be storefronts. Even from a distance, it radiated wealth in a way that made his chest tighten.

The cart rolled to a stop. The driver gave a small bow before leaving them at the foot of the marble steps.

Niccolo stared up at the towering home, his jaw slack. Out of pure disbelief, he muttered, “Who… are you?”

The girl’s lips curved into a small smile as if she had been waiting for that question. She stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Where are my manners?” she said lightly, her voice carrying an elegance that hadn’t been there before.

She extended her hand. “My name is Ariana Shaw. Nice to meet you.”

Niccolo froze. He didn’t need to ask who the Shaws were —anyone in Westview knew. The Shaw family name was practically carved into the foundation of the city itself.

And now, one of them was standing in front of him, smiling like they were old friends.