CHAPTER 130: 8 HOURS

Cain stood motionless before the gathered crowd, his voice slicing through the oppressive silence. "All of you here probably have no idea why people refer to me as the Mad Lord," he said, his tone icy, not sparing so much as a glance at Bari’s lifeless body sprawled at his feet.

"Most of you weren’t in this district back then, and even if you’ve heard about it... none of you were there to experience it!" Cain continued, his voice soft but laced with menace. A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth as he surveyed the crowd, satisfied by the eerie stillness and the palpable fear that silenced even the boldest among them.

"One night," Cain began, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper, "when my beast took over, I killed them all. Every single person in this mansion. Their blood soaked the ground beneath their bodies, and I didn’t stop until I was the only one left alive."

A flicker of terror danced across the faces of those before him, and Cain’s smile widened slightly, pleased by the reaction. "Viole isn’t someone I care much about," he admitted coldly, "yet he’s still worth twice as much as everyone here!" his voice powerful enough to shake everyone there.

Some of the higher-ranked superintendents shifted uneasily, as if preparing to speak, but Cain’s merciless gaze froze them in place. His hand gestured toward Frank, who stood silently behind him. "Kill the last set of people to arrive," Cain ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.

Frank stiffened, a shiver sliding down his spine, but he nodded and signaled the elite guards. Instantly, his body transformed into his werewolf form, a monstrous presence that dashed forward with terrifying speed.

Chaos erupted. The ones at the back of the crowd tried to surge forward, desperate to escape their fate, but the people in front recoiled, unwilling to trade places. Screams pierced the air as necks were snapped one by one. The unfortunate ones who attempted to fight back were swiftly overpowered, their lifeless forms crumpling to the ground like discarded puppets. Blood splattered across the cobblestones, and the scent of death thickened the air.

Cain remained impassive, not sparing a glance at the carnage unfolding behind him. His gaze stayed fixed on the trembling crowd before him as he continued, his voice slicing through the chaos like a blade. "For every hour that Viole remains missing," he declared, "each of the guards on duty will die. And if by tomorrow he is still not found... well, let’s just say I will have to go further." His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken malice. The crowd quivered, their minds racing to decipher the horrors he might unleash.

The massive tree under which Cain stood provided shade, the leaves casting dappled shadows on his bloodied figure. He tilted his head slightly, glancing up at the darkening sky as if contemplating returning to his quarters. Just then, a voice broke the silence.

"My Lord!" Tajid, one of the district’s high-ranking officials, fell to his knees, his teeth clenched and his voice trembling with forced humility. A deep scar marred his forehead, a testament to his experience and rank. Though fear shone in his eyes, he summoned the courage to speak.

"I would like permission to leave the mansion and extend the search," Tajid said, his tone respectful but laced with barely concealed disdain. Internally, he sneered, unwilling to die over a missing lover.

’I refuse to die here because of a fucking male lover!’ Tajid thought bitterly. He had dismissed the horror stories surrounding Cain as exaggerated—until now. The sight of Bari’s brutal death and the promise of further bloodshed had shattered his illusions.

Glancing around, Tajid saw others beginning to kneel as well. Encouraged by his boldness, they added their voices to his plea.

"My Lord, we’ve searched every inch of the mansion. He’s definitely not here!"

"With your permission, we can cover the entire district in a day!"

"Give us the resources, and we’ll find your lover in no time," they implored, their heads bowed in submission. Cain’s face remained unreadable as he listened, a fleeting smirk ghosting across his lips when they finished.

"Are you calling the guards on duty liars?" Cain asked softly, his voice mocking. The question made the kneeling men tremble visibly. The assembled guards, especially those on duty, paled under the weight of his words.

"The guards claim they didn’t see him leave," Cain continued, his tone sharpening. "And yet you propose to search outside. Tell me... who should I believe?" His icy gaze swept over them, silencing any potential objections.

The elite guards, still in their werewolf forms, growled softly in warning, but Cain gestured for them to quiet down. The tension was suffocating as he delivered his next statement. "It’s fine. I’ll deal with this myself," he said, his voice calm but ominous.

Tajid’s eyes widened in fear as Cain’s bloodthirsty aura focused on him. Cold sweat dripped down his face. Desperation took over, and he transformed, his massive werewolf form towering over the human crowd. Three others followed his lead, their snarls echoing through the garden. The rest of the assembly scrambled backward, watching in terror as the four werewolves prepared to face Cain.

’Isn’t he going to transform?’ someone whispered under their breath, their voice quivering. ’He’s going to get killed if he doesn’t. Even for Cain, it’s impossible to fight werewolves in human form!’

The whispers of doubt spread like wildfire. For many, the possibility of Cain’s death seemed like salvation, an end to their nightmare. But those who truly knew him—Frank, the elite guards, Ravon, and Fiona—remained unshaken. They understood the depths of Cain’s power and knew better than to underestimate him.

Cain moved with terrifying speed, faster than their eyes could follow. His human form became a blur of motion, his strikes landing with lethal precision. A clawed hand reached for him, but he sidestepped effortlessly, his fingers slicing through the werewolf’s thick hide with inhuman strength. Blood sprayed in arcs as limbs were torn apart, and anguished howls filled the night.

One by one, the werewolves fell. Tajid lunged, his massive jaws snapping inches from Cain’s throat, but Cain spun and delivered a devastating blow that shattered his ribs. The werewolf crumpled to the ground, gasping for air that would not come. The others fared no better. Cain’s movements were ruthless and efficient, each attack calculated to end his opponents swiftly and brutally.

In mere seconds, the garden was silent once more. The four werewolves lay dead, their broken, lifeless forms a testament to Cain’s unparalleled power. He stood in the aftermath, his body drenched in blood, his chest rising and falling steadily. His icy gaze swept over the remaining crowd, freezing them in place.

"By evening... in eight hours, bring all the guards on duty to me," he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

Without another word, Cain turned and walked away, his steps brisk and unyielding. Frank, still in his werewolf form, growled orders to the other guards, ensuring no one left the premises. Cain didn’t look back, leaving the shaken crowd to process the carnage he had wrought.