Evil MC's NTR Harem - Chapter 233

Chapter 233: Chapter 233 Faded
One week later, nearly two dozen hired ex-soldiers, clad in dark tactical gear and wearing masks, sat in tense silence.

Armed only with pistols, they had been tasked with infiltrating what was described as a relatively easy target.

The men joked among themselves, questioning why such a simple mission required so many of them.

“Overkill, if you ask me,” one muttered with a smirk, adjusting his mask.

“Yeah, but we’re not paid to ask questions,” another replied, already envisioning the payout. Laughter rippled through the group, lightening the mood as they waited for the signal to move.

Minutes ticked by. Impatience began to creep in.

“What’s the holdup? Why’s it taking so long?” one man grumbled, tapping his pistol against his thigh.

“I don’t know, mate. Don’t ask me,” another snapped, irritation in his voice.

“Shut your traps!” their leader barked, silencing the chatter. “We’re a go in a few minutes, so get ready.”

But their masters—those orchestrating the mission—were caught in a moment of hesitation.

Reina Hirose stood apart from the operation, her brow furrowed in deep thought. In front of her was her loyal assistant and bodyguard, watched with a mix of concern and impatience.

“What’s wrong, boss? Why are you hesitating?” Mari asked quietly, her voice laced with curiosity.

Reina sighed, her eyes distant.

“I don’t know, Mari. Something doesn’t feel right. My judgment is clouded by my desire to bring Ren back home. I can’t tell if I’m making the right choice.” Her words, spoken in Japanese, carried the weight of a mother’s conflicted heart.

Mari tilted her head, her tone firm.

“So what, boss? Ren’s your daughter. If I had a daughter, I’d do whatever it took to get her back—even kill the president of any nation if I had to.” Her loyalty and conviction were unwavering, a reflection of the lengths Reina herself might go to for her child.

Reina’s lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at the ground, lost in thought. The seconds stretched unbearably long before she let out a heavy sigh.

“Hah…” she exhaled, and with a steely resolve hardening her features, she made her decision.

“Do it.”

The command was relayed swiftly to the team on standby.

“It’s on, boys!” the leader of the group called out. “Let’s make it clean and fast. Check your gear one last time, and let’s move!”

The team sprang into action, their earlier joking replaced by cold efficiency. Weapons were readied, silencers attached, and the plan reviewed one final time.

The night had just begun, and they were ready to execute.

A few minutes later, the group of infiltrators breached the grounds of Ross’s mansion, moving like shadows under the cover of night.

Everything seemed to be going according to plan until a figure emerged from the side of the mansion.

Clad in black and wearing a demon mask, the man walked slowly, almost leisurely, toward the main entrance of Ross’s home.

The eerie stillness of his movements unsettled the infiltrators, forcing them to halt.

The team exchanged silent signals, their decision unanimous: the man in the demon mask had to be eliminated. One of the infiltrators crawled forward, his pistol steady as he aimed for the demon mask’s head.

Poot!

The suppressed shot rang out, and the bullet struck the demon mask square in the face. But instead of dropping to the ground, the masked figure remained standing, entirely unfazed.

“What the hell?” someone whispered, disbelief rippling through the group.

The masked man tilted his head slightly, as if amused. Then, his voice broke the silence, low and guttural, carrying an unnatural resonance.

“Maggots. Become food in my belly.”

The realization dawned too late. This was no ordinary man.

It was Brandon.

With a faint whoosh, Brandon vanished from where he stood, reappearing instantly behind the man who had taken the shot.

Before anyone could react, the soldier’s head was severed cleanly from his body, the sound of flesh and bone parting sharp in the night.

Cranch!

Cranch!

Cranch!

The grotesque sound of chewing filled the air as Brandon devoured his victim. The team froze in horror, the reality of their mistake crashing down on them.

“AHHHHHHHH!”

“DEMON!”

“Get away!”

“RUN!”

Poot!

Poot!

Poot!

Poot!

Poot!

Panic broke their ranks as they scattered, firing wildly at the figure that was now a nightmare incarnate.

But it was futile.

Brandon moved with impossible speed, darting between them like a predator among prey.

One by one, they fell, their screams cut short as they were reduced to lifeless husks. His attacks were not just lethal—they were cruelly efficient, each motion precise and devastating.

By the time it was over, the infiltrators were gone, their bodies reduced to grotesque puppet food. Brandon stood amidst the carnage, his form as menacing as ever.

The demon mask glinted in the moonlight as he turned toward the mansion, his voice echoing in the stillness of the night.

“Pathetic. Send more next time. But wait… there’s two more,” Brandon whispered, his voice carried away by the cold evening wind as he vanished into the shadows.

Back in the car, Reina sat in silence, her instincts prickling.

“Something’s wrong,” she muttered, her unease deepening.

Just minutes had passed since the team launched their operation, but the ominous feeling in her gut refused to subside. She opened her mouth to say more, but—

BANG!

The sharp crack of glass breaking shattered the silence. The driver’s side window exploded inward, shards flying everywhere, and in the next instant, Mari was yanked out by something—or someone.

“…” Reina froze for a moment, her mind racing. But panic didn’t take hold. Years of calculated decisions and high-stakes negotiations had honed her composure.

She quickly reached for the handgun concealed in her bag, crouched low beside the car door, and made herself as small as possible to avoid being an easy target.

Her weapon was trained on the left side of the car, where Mari had been taken.

The air outside was eerily quiet. Reina’s breath was shallow, her senses on high alert. She didn’t know how or what had taken Mari, but stepping out of the car would be suicide.

And yet, even with her caution, she wasn’t prepared for what came next.

Shiiing!

A metallic screech tore through the night as a hole appeared in the car’s roof. Reina’s eyes widened in shock as the entire ceiling was ripped away, flung aside with terrifying ease.

She looked up—and there he was.

Brandon.

Standing above her, bathed in moonlight, he was a vision of primal horror. His demon mask glinted menacingly, his figure radiating an aura of unstoppable malice.

Without hesitation, Reina raised her gun and fired.

Poot! Poot! Poot!

The shots rang out in quick succession, her entire magazine emptied into him. But it was futile. The bullets seemed to vanish against him, leaving not even a scratch.

Brandon tilted his head, almost as if amused.

“Those toys don’t hurt me. Sorry,” he said with an eerie calmness.

In one fluid motion, he leaped down into the car. Reina, despite her resolve, felt her mind falter as she tried to process what she was seeing.

Before she could react further, Brandon’s hand shot out, gripping her neck with ease.

To him, she was weightless, a mere doll in his grasp. Reina struggled, clawing at his arm, but his grip was unyielding, as though her resistance was nothing more than an annoyance.

The world began to blur. Her vision dimmed, her strength fading. In her final moments of consciousness, she saw his mask, the glowing eyes behind it burning into her soul.

And then, there was nothing.

“You’re lucky my master wants you,” Brandon said coldly, his voice carrying an unsettling calmness. A whole minute later and he effortlessly hoisted the two unconscious women over his shoulders.

Their limp bodies seemed weightless in his grasp, yet the sinister ease with which he carried them spoke volumes of his strength.