The Strongest Curse Master - Chapter 158

Chapter 158: Master Chapter 158: Master “Gasps!” Layla’s eyes flew open as she sharply inhaled, her chest rising with a sudden breath of air.

She looked around, disoriented, and realized she was lying on a bed back in the Lander’s guestroom.

Throwing off the covers, she sprang up and scanned the room, her heart pounding as she searched for the mysterious cursemaster.

They were nowhere to be found.

Instead, on the nightstand, she spotted her cursed gadgets alongside a folded letter which read, Dear Disciple,   I have fulfilled my end of the bargain.

I hope you will, too.

But just in case, by the time you read this, I will have left the country.

I would have loved to stay and teach you everything I know, but your status as a C.I.B.

agent complicates things.

I trust the C.I.B.

will help you navigate your path.

If fate allows, we may meet again.

I know it will be difficult to explain how you became a curse slave so quickly, but do whatever you must to achieve your ambitions.

Don’t worry about me-I can take care of myself.

You are my first disciple, so go and make your master proud.

P.S.

In my rush to leave, I didn’t have time to replace the curse core in your cursed smartphone.

Don’t blame your master.

Layla sighed, sitting back down on the bed with the letter clutched in her hands.

“I never agreed to be your disciple, Master,” she muttered under her breath.

As her thoughts swirled, a luminous, ethereal sphere emerged from her chest and floated in front of her.

Though it lacked a face, its shifting, squirming form exuded a clear sense of concern for her.

“Hey there, little guy.

Come to think of it, I should give you a name,” Layla said softly to the luminous sphere, a gentle smile curling her lips.

The sphere seemed to perk up at her words, darting closer to her face with an excited energy wanting to brush against her cheek in the same way it had in her dreams-the dreams where she’d been enlightened about her becoming a curse slave and learned her innate curse art.

“No!

No!” Layla cried, recoiling slightly, her hands flying up in alarm.

She braced herself for the inevitable zap-she’d already been shocked enough for one night.

But to her surprise, no electric jolt came.

Instead, a warm, soothing energy radiated from the sphere as it pressed against her skin.

Her brow furrowed in amazement.

“Wait… did I gain resistance to electricity?” she wondered aloud, tilting her head to examine the sphere more closely.

Before she could ponder further, a knock sounded at the door, followed by Mandy’s concerned voice.

“Layla?

Is everything alright in there?

We heard a scream-I’m coming in.” Panic flickered across Layla’s face.

She whispered hurriedly to the sphere, “Hide-wait, she can’t see you.” Her panic ebbed as she remembered mortals couldn’t perceive a curseling.

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself just as the door swung open.

Mandy stepped inside, her gaze sweeping the room until it landed on Layla, who sat calmly on the bed.

“Are you alright?” Mandy asked, her tone still laced with concern.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Layla replied, thinking quickly.

“I just realized I forgot my charger, and now my phone’s dead.” She gestured vaguely toward the cursed smartphone on the nightstand.

Relief softened Mandy’s expression.

“You can borrow mine.” Layla shook her head, smiling faintly.

“No, it’s okay.

I’ve got one in the car.

I’ll charge it there.” She made her tone firm, signaling she planned to leave soon.

Mandy, however, wasn’t so easily swayed.

“Breakfast is ready.

Freshen up and have some before you go, or the townspeople will start saying the Landers are bad hosts,” she said with a playful but pointed tone, leaving no room for argument.

“Alright, I’ll be out in a minute,” Layla replied, standing and heading toward the guest bathroom.

Mandy lingered briefly, then added with a smile, “There are fresh toiletries in the drawer by the sink.

Feel free to use them.” With that, she left, closing the door softly behind her.

Layla let out a quiet sigh of relief before glancing back at the sphere, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“Well, little guy, looks like we’ve got to stay for breakfast.” …  “Honey, breakfast is ready.

Want me to fix you a plate?” Pam asked her husband as she watched him step into the kitchen, heading straight for the plates and cutlery.

Dan barely glanced her way, his tone indifferent as he replied, “No, I’m just grabbing a few plates.” Turning toward his son and nephew seated at the breakfast bar, about to dig into their meals, Dan added with a pointed edge, “I had Marty slaughter a couple of chickens.

Alwin and I are having BBQ for breakfast.

Anyone who wants a breakfast that won’t stab them in the back can join us.” The comment hung in the air like a challenge.

Danny caught his father’s eye briefly but quickly looked away, his focus returning to the plate in front of him.

He had no interest in getting involved in his parents’ brewing spat.

BBQ chicken was tempting, sure, but risking his mother’s wrath wasn’t worth it Ace, however, stood up, his chair scraping lightly against the floor, ready to join his uncle and father without hesitation.

For him, it wasn’t just about breakfast-it was about protecting the sanctuary he had painstakingly built for their family-not to mention he had to butter up both his uncle and dad later for a favor.

But before he could take another step, Mary’s voice cut through the tension like a whip.

“Young man, if that plate and glass aren’t empty before you leave, you’d better be prepared to make your own breakfast for the rest of your life.” Her gaze pinned him in place, her tone brooking no argument.

Ace froze mid-step, then, under his mother’s watchful eyes, returned to his seat.

He carefully picked up the bacon strips, laid them over his omelet, rolled them together, and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth.

His chewing was deliberate, exaggerated almost, as if to emphasize his compliance.

He washed it all down with a gulp of orange juice, finishing it in one go.

As he set his empty plate and glass back on the counter, he looked around at the stunned faces of everyone in the kitchen.

Even Mandy, who had just walked in, froze mid-step, her eyebrows raised in astonishment.

“What?” Ace said, shrugging innocently.

“I love her cooking.

Besides, there’s always room for BBQ chicken.” “Ahem!” Dan cleared his throat, trying to mask the awkward tension as he reached for the plates.

Just as he was about to leave the kitchen, Pam’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“My plates don’t leave the house, Dan,” she warned, her tone firm yet teasing.

Dan froze mid-step, slowly turning back to glare at her.

For a moment, he looked like he might argue, but instead, he caved with an exaggerated sigh.

“Fine.

Where are the disposable ones?” Pam’s playful smile widened.

“We used them all for the pool party last week.” Dan groaned, clearly exasperated.

“Fine.

We’ll just eat off the skewers,” he muttered, placing the plates and cutlery back on the counter with a loud clink before storming out of the kitchen.

Ace trailed after him ignoring Mandy’s gaze.

“Dad, save some for me!” Danny called from the breakfast bar, shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he could.

Once he finished, he wiped his mouth, looked at Pam with an earnest expression, and said, “Mom, you know I’m always on your side, right?” Pam raised a skeptical eyebrow, but before she could respond, Danny grabbed his backpack and bolted for the barn.

“Make sure you two get to school on time!” Pam called after him, her voice carrying a note of maternal exasperation.

As the kitchen settled back into a quieter rhythm, Mandy sat down at the breakfast bar, eyeing Pam with a smirk.

“Wow.

They’re making their own breakfast.

You ladies need to get your men under control if you’re serious about running a successful Orchard B&B.”