The Death Lord Is Back

In the quarry of East Valley, a group of fierce, muscular men were working hard. If there were any crime experts present, they would be utterly shocked.

Everyone here was one of the most notorious criminals in the world, yet now they were all quietly working, not daring to utter a single complaint.

On the hillside, a man who didn’t appear particularly strong sat calmly, hiding in the shade of a tree. Under his watchful gaze, not a single person dared to slack off.

“Boss, I’ve cleaned the restroom... I really understand my mistake now...”

A man in a janitor’s uniform looked at Kael with a flattering expression, his tone respectful to the extreme.

Who could have imagined that, just a year ago, he was the mafia boss of the King District in Eastwind City, commanding over a thousand men?

But to escape the relentless pursuit of his enemies, he had no choice but to come to the quarry and become one of its workers.

Through the most confidential channels, he learned that no one dared to stir trouble in the East Valley Quarry. The reason? There was someone here they simply couldn’t afford to offend—Kael Constantine.

At first, he didn’t believe it, but after spending five months here in relative peace, he had no choice but to admit that the East Valley Quarry was indeed a forbidden zone.

Except—he was being treated as Kael’s servant.

“I understand. Next time, don’t add any sugar to my tea. If you make another mistake, you’ll be in charge of cleaning the restroom for a month,” Kael said indifferently.

“Thank you, Boss!” The mafia boss replied, bowing deeply.

Compared to being hacked to death on the streets by his enemies, being a servant didn’t seem like such a bad fate after all.

“Mr. Kael, sir!” The scrawny worker stumbled into the dusty office, clutching his cap like a lifeline.

Kael sighed.

"Now what?"

“Sir, It’s the Reaper and the Butcher. They’re fighting again. The workers are scared to intervene.”

Kael stood, stretching lazily.

“Scared? Of those two clowns? Fine. Let’s go.”

In the quarry yard, two hulking figures circled each other, their shirts torn and fists raised.

“You think you’re the toughest here, Butcher?” the Reaper growled.

“I’ll carve you up like a Sunday roast!”

The Butcher sneered.

“Big words for a guy who cries every time he stubs his toe. Bring it on, twig arms!”

The workers formed a loose circle, whispering nervously. Kael approached, hands in his pockets, his presence silencing the crowd.

“Reaper. Butcher.” Kael’s voice was calm but carried an edge that made both men freeze mid-swing.

“Do you two enjoy wasting my time?”

Both men stammered incoherent excuses.

Kael held up a hand.

“Save it. You’ve got two choices. One, hang yourselves under the sun for three days and reflect on how dumb you are.”

The Butcher blinked.

“Three days, boss? That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

Kael’s gaze turned icy.

“Option two: fight me instead.”

The Reaper and the Butcher exchanged wide-eyed glances.

The Reaper chuckled nervously.

“You know, boss, hanging doesn’t sound so bad. Good for the posture, right?”

The Butcher nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, and the weather’s great this time of year. Sunbathing it is!”

Kael crossed his arms.

“Good. Now smile while you climb the scaffold. If I hear a single complaint, we’ll revisit option two.”

Both men grinned like children caught stealing cookies.

“Thank you, boss! We promise no more fights!”

As the pair scampered off, the scrawny worker sidled up to Kael, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Uh, sir… there’s someone else here to see you.”

Kael pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If it’s another fight, I’m throwing everyone in the quarry into a pit and filling it with water.”

“No, sir. It’s a woman. With two scary-looking bodyguards.”

Kael’s eyebrow twitched. “A woman?”

“Yes, sir. She says her name is Selene.”

Kael’s expression didn’t change, but his voice dropped.

“Bring her in. And don’t let anyone else interrupt.”

Selene entered the office like she owned the place, her military uniform immaculate.

Her two bodyguards followed, their eyes scanning every corner like hawks.

Kael didn’t rise from his chair, his tone bored.

“What brings the nation’s greatest war hero to my humble quarry?”

Selene smirked.

“I see exile hasn’t dampened your charm, Kael. Or your… questionable choice of decor.”

Kael gestured at the mismatched furniture.

“I like to keep things simple. Unlike you, I don’t need a parade wherever I go.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not here for banter. I’ve come to annul our engagement.”

Kael raised an eyebrow. “Engagement? Oh, right. That thing our parents cooked up when we were kids. I’d almost forgotten.”

Selene scoffed.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Kael. I’m sure you’ve been clinging to the hope of marrying me, but let me be clear: I’d rather marry a cockroach.”

Kael’s lips twitched. “Cockroaches are resilient. Smart choice.”

Selene’s face flushed with annoyance.

“This isn’t a joke! You’re a lowly quarry worker, while I’m a national hero. Our statuses couldn’t be further apart.”

Kael leaned back, his expression unreadable.

“If it makes you feel better, I accept. Consider our engagement annulled.”

Selene blinked, taken aback. “That’s it? No protest? No begging me to reconsider?”

Kael shrugged. “Why would I beg? I’d rather marry a cactus.”

The bodyguards stifled snickers, earning a sharp glare from Selene.

She straightened, her tone icy.

“Enjoy your dirt pile, Kael. I have real work to do. But don’t think this is over. I’ll spare you this time.”

Kael waved lazily.

“Thanks for your mercy, oh mighty war hero. Don’t trip on the way out.”