Chapter 6
Drogen knocked on the door. After a pause, it opened. Natasha stood there, fresh from her shower, wrapped in a robe. Her damp hair clung to her shoulders, glistening like white silk. Drogen froze, his eyes locking on her. Without all the dirt and ravaged look, she was actually stunning. A flicker of something—something unfamiliar and unsettling—stirred in his chest. He quickly forced it down, regaining his cold expression.
"No matter what happens, don't come downstairs. Do you understand?" His tone was firm, almost harsh.
Her spine stiffened, panic washing over her. "Are they here?"
"Yes, and there are a lot of them. Stay in this room and don't come out no matter what you hear. This necklace will protect you while I'm gone. Don't take it off, it contains a bit of my spirit energy and will deflect any attack coming your way" he instructed, holding up a silver pendant that seemed to pulse faintly with an otherworldly glow.
He stepped closer. "Turn around," he ordered. She obeyed, brushing her damp hair aside to reveal the curve of her neck. Drogen hesitated, his throat tightening as he fastened the chain. His fingers grazed her skin, and for a moment, he forgot himself. Why did she have this effect on him? She was attractive, yeah, but not the kind to make his body react like this.
The necklace secured, he turned abruptly to leave, but Natasha grabbed his hand.
"Will you be okay out there?" Her voice wavered, betraying her worry. Why was she even worried, it's not like he could die or anything.
"Oh, I'm going to have fun." His grin was sharp, almost predatory.
"Fun?" Her confusion deepened.
"You'll see," he replied with a smirk before disappearing into thin air, leaving only a wisp of smoke behind.
Natasha rushed to the window, her pulse racing. From her vantage point, she could see the confrontation unfold. A group of men, all clad in black coats, surrounded the house. Drogen stood in front of them, hands casually tucked into his pockets, as though he had all the time in the world.
"They couldn't send someone decent, like Zeus or Justidia? At least they might've lasted longer," Drogen scoffed, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
One of the men, evidently their leader, stepped forward. "Sir Drogen, we're not here to fight. We only wish to talk."
Drogen let out a low, menacing laugh. "And you brought forty men to talk? Cute."
The leader's jaw tightened. "Hand her over, and we'll leave peacefully."
"And if I don't?" Drogen's voice dripped with mockery.
The man hesitated before responding, his tone sharp. "Then forgive us for what we must do." Without warning, he lunged at Drogen.
Drogen's counterattack was instant. With a single devastating punch, he sent the man flying into a nearby wall, where he crumpled like a broken doll.
"One down, thirty-nine to go," Drogen muttered, his grin widening.
The remaining men faltered, the fear in their eyes unmistakable. But orders were orders, and they charged him in unison, hoping to overwhelm him with sheer numbers.
It was a massacre. Drogen moved like a shadow, swift and unrelenting. Each blow he landed was precise, each movement calculated. In mere moments, the attackers were scattered across the ground, groaning in pain.
"Go back and tell them this," Drogen growled, his voice cold. "When I'm done with her, they can have her. Until then, stay out of my way." With that, he vanished.
---
Natasha bolted from her room, her eyes bright with excitement. "That was insane! You moved so fast i couldn't even follow your movement. If I didn't know your identity, I would have thought I was hallucinating"
Drogen, who had just reappeared in the apartment, brushed off her praise. "That was nothing," he mumbled, though the tips of his ears betrayed a faint blush.
"So, does this mean they won't bother us anymore?" she asked hopefully.
"For now,"
She exhaled in relief. "Good. So… what's for dinner?"
"Dinner?" He arched a brow.
"Yes! I'm starving," she said, placing a hand dramatically over her stomach.
"Make your own food. I'm not hungry." He turned and disappeared into his room, not giving her a second glance.
"Geez, you don't have to be so grumpy," she muttered.
Shrugging, she headed to the kitchen and decided on a quick meal—ramen noodles. Soon, the smell of broth filled the air, and she settled on the sofa to eat.
The peace didn't last long. Drogen emerged from his room, his expression dark. "I told you I don't like a messy house. Why are you eating on the sofa?"
"Relax, I'm not going to spill anything. Besides, it's more comfortable," she replied, her tone light and teasing.
Drogen's patience snapped. "Don't push your luck, princess. Keep this up, and I'll hand you over to them myself."
"Alright, Grandpa," she said with a smirk, standing to move to the dining table.
"Grandpa?" His brows furrowed.
"You've lived for centuries, and you nag like an old man. What else should I call you?" she teased, barely able to hide her grin.
Before she could blink, Drogen teleported in front of her. His sudden proximity made her heart skip. He tilted her chin up with a finger, his gaze sharp and dangerous.
"The next time you call me Grandpa, I'll make sure to teach you a lesson you'll never forget," he whispered, his grin sending shivers down her spine.
Natasha gulped. "Alright, I won't. I'm sorry," she stammered. Although, her heart bumbled with excitement from how close their faces were. Why did he have to be so handsome, it was hard to take him seriously.
After he left, She finished her meal in silence, retreating to her room shortly after.
---
Meanwhile, in the underworld, Zeus approached the towering doors of Lord Drake's hall. The imposing leader of all grim reapers sat on his throne, his eyes cold and unyielding.
"My lord," Zeus began, bowing deeply. "Drogen has gone too far. He eliminated every man we sent."
Drake's voice was low and ominous. "Summon him. He will face judgment. While he is detained, bring the girl. And don't fail me again"
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