Behind me, Angela was still frozen in shock, her hand pressed to her mouth as if she could stifle her own screams. The bodyguards were a chorus of whimpers and pleas, their pride shattered, their confidence obliterated.

Tyler's body convulsed as he pressed his face into the marble, his voice breaking. "I'll serve you! I'll be your dog! Just don't kill me!"

I looked down at him, my expression unreadable. "Oh, Tyler," I said, my voice dripping with false sympathy. "I'm not going to kill you."

Tyler's breath came in ragged, broken gasps as he pressed his forehead against the cold marble, his body trembling like a leaf in a storm.

A dark, spreading stain of urine soaked through his trousers, the acrid stench filling the air as his bladder betrayed him in sheer, unrelenting terror. His fingers clawed at the floor, his nails snapping as he dug into the stone as if he could burrow his way to safety.

I leaned in closer, my voice a venomous whisper. "I'm going to make you wish you were dead."

With a fluid motion, I activated the Magical Tool strapped to my wrist. The air hummed with energy as the device unfolded, segments shifting and realigning with a mechanical hiss.

The barrel extended, glowing with an eerie, pulsating crimson light, the core of the weapon emitting a low, ominous whine. Within seconds, it had transformed into a sleek, futuristic laser rifle, its surface etched with glowing runes that pulsed like a living thing.

The bodyguards stumbled back, their faces draining of color as they stared at the weapon. One of them let out a whimper, his hands shaking violently.

"I can give you a chance," I said, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "Castrate him. Do it now, and I'll let you live."

Tyler's head snapped up, his eyes wide with horror. "N-NO!" he shrieked, his voice cracking. "PLEASE! MERCY! I'LL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING! MY MONEY! MY POWER! JUST DON'T—!" His words dissolved into a choked sob as he pressed his hands between his legs, as if he could shield himself from what was coming.

The bodyguards hesitated, their eyes darting between Tyler and me. One of them, a burly man with a scar across his cheek, swallowed hard. "W-we can't—"

I didn't let him finish.

With a flick of my wrist, I aimed the laser rifle at him and pulled the trigger.

A blinding beam of crimson energy erupted from the barrel, striking the bodyguard square in the chest. His body vaporized instantly, his flesh dissolving into a cloud of black ash that scattered across the floor. His clothes fell empty to the ground, still smoldering at the edges.

The remaining three bodyguards screamed, stumbling back in horror. One of them collapsed to his knees, his hands clasped in prayer. "I'LL DO IT!" he shrieked, his voice breaking. "JUST DON'T KILL ME!"

Tyler's screams reached a new pitch, his body convulsing as the bodyguards lunged for him. Two of them grabbed his arms, pinning him down as he thrashed wildly. "NO! NO! PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING! ANYTHING!" His voice was raw, his throat tearing from the force of his pleas.

The third bodyguard, his hands shaking, fumbled with his belt. He pulled out a serrated combat knife, the blade gleaming under the dim light. Tyler's eyes rolled back in his head as he let out a bloodcurdling scream, "DON'T! PLEASE, GOD, NO—!"

The knife slashed through the fabric of Tyler's trousers.

A high-pitched, inhuman shriek tore from Tyler's throat as the blade bit into his flesh. His body arched off the floor, his back bowing in agony as the bodyguard sawed through the sensitive tissue. Blood sprayed across the marble, slick and dark, pooling beneath him as his screams filled the room.

"IT'S DONE!" the bodyguard choked out, his face pale as death, his hands covered in blood.

Tyler's body went limp, his sobs reduced to weak, broken whimpers. His face was a mask of shock and pain, his skin slick with sweat and tears.

I didn't look at him.

Instead, I turned to Angela, pulling her into my arms. "Don't look," I murmured, my voice low.

Angela didn't resist. She buried her face against my chest, her entire body trembling violently as Tyler's broken, animalistic whimpers echoed through the room like the last gasps of a dying beast. Her fingers clenched into the fabric of my shirt, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The air smelled of blood, urine, and the metallic tang of fear—thick enough to choke on.

The remaining bodyguards stood like statues, their faces drained of color, their hands shaking as if they'd just witnessed the end of the world. One of them was openly weeping, his shoulders heaving as he tried to stifle his sobs. The other two stood frozen, their eyes wide and unblinking, their minds struggling to process what they had just done—and what they had just seen.

"It's over," I said, my voice a dark, final promise.

I turned my gaze to the bodyguards, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Clean this place. And take him to the hospital." A cold smirk tugged at my lips. "Don't let him die too easily."

The two strongest bodyguards swallowed hard, their throats bobbing. They moved mechanically, bending down to grab Tyler's limp, bloodied body. His trousers were soaked in crimson, his face ashen, his breath shallow and ragged. They dragged him toward the door, his feet leaving a smeared trail of blood across the marble. The third bodyguard, the one who had done the deed, stood frozen, his hands still trembling, his knife clattering to the floor as he sank to his knees.

"And you," I said, my voice cutting through his panic. "Clean. Every. Drop."

He nodded frantically, scrambling for a towel, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.

I turned back to Angela.

She was still shaking, her face streaked with tears, her eyes hollow with shock. I guided her into the room, my hand firm but gentle on her arm. She moved like a ghost, her steps unsteady, her mind clearly lost in the horror of what she had just witnessed.

I helped her sit down on the couch, her body collapsing into the cushions as if her bones had turned to jelly. I poured a glass of water and pressed it into her hands. Her fingers trembled as she took it, her grip unsteady. She brought it to her lips, drinking slowly, her gaze distant, her thoughts a million miles away.

I crouched in front of her, my voice low. "Angela."

She didn't respond at first. Her eyes were fixed on some unseen point in the distance, her breath still coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

"Angela," I repeated, firmer this time.

Her gaze finally flickered to mine, her eyes filled with a mix of terror, awe, and something else—something darker, something that looked almost like fear of me.

I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You're safe now."

She didn't pull away. But she didn't speak either.

Outside, the sound of the car engine roared to life as the bodyguards drove Tyler away, his fate now sealed in blood and agony. The last bodyguard was on his hands and knees, scrubbing frantically at the bloodstains, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

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