Daphne exhaled deeply. Despite her outward composure, the thought of seeing that man again sent a tremor through her. The events of the morning were unlike anything she had ever experienced—a waking nightmare.
But as her emotions settled, Daphne began to piece together everything that had transpired. One truth loomed above all: the terrifying power of that young man.
If someone could possess enough strength to make firearms irrelevant, Daphne couldn't imagine what force on Earth could possibly restrain him. And from the few signs she had seen, particularly the changes in Novak, she knew that the world was shifting in ways she hadn't yet grasped.
Daphne was not the kind of woman to sit idly by. She was ambitious, and she wanted answers. More than that, she wanted power. If Novak knew what was happening, she intended to find out—and use that knowledge to advance herself!
——
Novak had never underestimated Daphne. Seeing her before him now, regaining her composure so swiftly, only confirmed his expectations.
In contrast to the seductive, carefree witch he had encountered in the morning, Daphne had now donned a dignified black gown, a blend of elegance and allure.
"I apologize for my behavior earlier, Mr. Novak," she said.
Novak glanced at her, then at the female bodyguard standing behind her, visibly anxious and fearful. With a slight smile, he said, "Come inside. You," he added, turning to the bodyguard, "wait outside."
Daphne nodded and entered the room. As she stepped in, her eyes briefly fell on the half-open door to the master bedroom, where she caught sight of a woman in nurse uniform. Her unusual appearance didn't faze Daphne in the slightest.
"Aunt Song, if you have something to say, say it." Novak poured himself a glass of red wine. He wasn't particularly fond of alcohol, but it served its purpose: sterilization. Still, the taste wasn't bad.
"I want to know—what's happening to this world?"
Ordinary people might still be ignorant of the truth, but Daphne, with her connections and influence, knew far more than most. The world was unraveling, and she wanted answers.
"Aunt Song," Novak replied calmly, "it's like those zombie movies. A special virus."
If Daphne had once believed that explanation, Novak's appearance had shattered that illusion. The clumsy, brainless zombies from films couldn't possibly bring about the collapse of society. But Novak? His strength was far too overwhelming for her to dismiss.
She studied him carefully. "What do you want? Money? I could give you this entire hotel right now. Or something else? Perhaps the woman in the other room? Or even better, I could offer you a new one every day until you're satisfied."
Novak scoffed at her offer, sipping the dark red liquid from his glass without responding. Daphne, momentarily unsure, felt her confidence waver. Stripped of the wealth and power that modern society afforded her, she was, at her core, just a woman—one who had seen wolves circle her after her husband's death, waiting to devour her.
And now, the situation seemed all too familiar.
Novak's voice broke the silence. "In a few days, it will begin. Don't worry about it—just wait, follow the flow, and you might rise with it. Why subject yourself to this kind of humiliation by coming to me? It's not worth it."
His meaning was clear.
Daphne paused, reflecting on his words. Wait? Follow the trend and rise? There was certainly something strange going on here.
She didn't like feeling as though she was groping in the dark, so she looked at Novak again, her tone sharper. "And if I do suffer humiliation, what will you offer me in return?"
Novak's eyes flicked to her with a touch of surprise. It seemed his words earlier had struck a chord. This time, she was being direct.
Intrigued, Novak set down his wine glass and slowly walked around behind her.
Even seated on the sofa, the long black dress that Daphne wore—though not overly revealing—failed to hide the natural allure of her figure, especially the graceful curves of her hourglass silhouette.
As Novak stood behind her, he couldn't help but feel that no man would willingly resist this woman if given the chance.
His hand gently brushed Daphne's slender, pale neck, slowly moving from her nape to her cheek, until it hovered before her eyes.
Daphne's gaze shifted to Novak's hand. His fingers were long and powerful, a symbol of control. But what truly caught her attention was what appeared next—a weathered, ancient copper coin slowly materialized in his palm, as if from thin air.
Her eyes widened in surprise. "This..."
"This," Novak interrupted, his voice calm, "is the currency of the future. The wealth you cling to now will soon be meaningless. Social hierarchies will be dismantled, and even those who hold power today may find themselves unworthy to participate in what's to come."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "The world will transform into what you glimpsed this morning. And your beauty, your figure, your status—they will be reduced to a singular value: your worth as a collectible. Something that drives others to desire and possess you. Do you understand?"
Daphne's gaze flickered from the ancient coin to Novak's hand resting on her shoulder. Her voice was low, almost provocative. "So, are you planning to add me to your personal collection?"
Novak chuckled softly and shook his head. "I do enjoy fine things—vases, beautiful trinkets. But if I were to make you part of my collection, I wouldn't waste my breath or effort. A mere decorative vase, no matter how exquisite, serves little purpose beyond occasional admiration or display."
For a moment, Daphne's eyes sparkled, a glimmer of understanding lighting them up. "So, what you're saying is, you want me to prove my value? To show my... role beyond being just an ornament?"
Novak smirked, toying with the diamond pendant hanging from her neck. "Exactly. Your added value and purpose are what matter now. And that's something we'll see in time."
Before their conversation could continue, a phone rang. It wasn't Novak's but Daphne's, resting on the coffee table. The caller ID displayed ''Daughter''—Dane was calling.
Novak raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Without waiting for Daphne's protest, he reached for the phone, ignoring her pleading eyes, and answered it himself.
"Hello, Mom? Where are you? It's so boring at home..."
"Hello, Dane," Novak said, his tone casual.
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a confused voice. "Novak? Why do you have my mother's phone!? Where is she? What's going on?"
Novak, unfazed, replied smoothly, "Your mother's in the bathroom. She was just talking to me about you. As for me, I'm just playing with a funny little puppy I found by the roadside."
With that, he gave the iron chain in his hand a sharp tug, causing a clattering sound to echo through the room. He added, "Your mother's back. I'll let her explain."
There was a rustling sound as Novak handed the phone to Daphne, who quickly took over. "Dane, we'll be home soon. Novak's joining us for dinner tonight. Let Aunt Sep know to prepare."
The call ended. Novak observed the brief flicker of relief on Daphne's face as she hung up. He smiled and tossed the toy he had been holding—now smeared with lipstick and saliva—across the spacious living room, watching it land on the floor with a soft thud.