"Do you see that, Peter?" Ross's voice dripped with contempt, a cruel smirk curling on his lips.
"She's still perfect, isn't she? Untouched. Beautiful. Thank you for taking care of her all this time." His words were a venomous blend of gratitude and derision, each one sinking deep into Peter's chest.
"But don't worry—I won't let anyone hurt her now. Not like you did, when she needed you the most. You impotent weak excuse of a man."
Peter's fists clenched tightly, the nails digging into his palms. Rage and humiliation warred within him, but he forced himself to stay silent.
Ross was just taunting him—this was a show of dominance, a game Peter had no hope of winning. Because our op evil mc wasn't an ordinary man; he was a true immortal.
A being who had transcended mortal limits, standing tall as the sole giant and uncontested overlord of the multiverse. Peter was painfully outmatched and outclassed at this very moment.
