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9.09% Return of The Possessed Villain / Chapter 4: Organizing

Capítulo 4: Organizing

As soon as Sorath returned to the real world, he put his effort into testing his new Trace's effect. Well, he didn't actually need to do that since he could already remember everything he had experienced inside the soul realm.

So, he put the actual effort into writing down all the information he gained during his time trapped in the soul realm. It had only been a day since he returned, yet he didn't even get past 10% of recording them.

"Why am I so slow in writing?!"

Frustrated, Sorath stopped working with his pen and leaned on his chair.

"Is it because I'm a 15-year-old and unawakened?"

Sighing, he continued.

"I guess even a Guardian can make a mistake."

Back in the soul realm, even beyond before the Author was stabbed to death. The Guardian had expected her death and asked Sorath if he was willing to return to the real world and avenge their master's death.

When he accepted it, the Guardian told him that they would use their power to rewind time by 7 years. But if it was a 7-year rewind, he should have returned to his 18-year-old body instead.

"But, I think it's fine. In exchange for my weak body and not having an Awakening, yet. I could steal all the hidden treasures of the tutorial floors from him!"

He got up from his chair. After that, he strolled through his spacious room, adorned with extravagant decor.

The walls showcased intricate art pieces, and the furniture exuded an air of opulence. It was a place where luxury and comfort intertwined seamlessly, offering a haven for relaxation and indulgence.

Satisfied with his room, he smiled.

"What a befitting place for a member of the Shedever family. And not only a member. But also the heir of the family."

Knock-knock!

After knocking, someone called him using his title "Young Master" behind the door.

"Ah, it arrived already?" he mumbled to himself.

He walked toward the table and sat before calling his maid back.

"Come in."

The door opened, revealing two people. One was a young girl, probably around her 20s, wearing a maid outfit and slightly bowing her head respectfully. The other was a middle-aged man, dressed in a formal suit like an office worker.

"Greeting, Young Master. It's such an honor to be hired as your exclusive writer."

Sorath looked at the maid, gesturing for her to prepare the tea and the 'thing' he had requested. As the maid disappeared from his vision, Sorath addressed the writer.

"What is your name?"

"Ah. Pardon my rudeness, Young Master. I am Albert, a professional writer." The writer introduced himself with exaggeration and dramatic bow.

Sorath shifted. His palm supported his chin as he observed Albert lazily.

"You have read my commission detail, right?"

Still in his initial pose, Albert replied.

"I have. But, I'm not quite sure what you mean by point number 5."

"What is there to be confused about? I just want you to make it a secret about my commission. I have even given you two choices. The Soul Contract, or the Spell."

Albert swallowed his saliva. His body produced a lot of sweat under Sorath's pressure.

"T-that is what I do not understand, Young Master. What kind of book do you want me to write that would require using one of those guarantees?"

"I'll tell you after hearing your answer. Will you accept my commission with the guarantee I requested?"

Albert hesitated. At that moment, his train of thought worked hard to determine the best choice. The choice that will bring him to the top. In the end, with a little regret, he accepted Sorath's commission along with the applicable guarantee.

"Good choice. Now, which guarantee do you want to pick?"

This time, Albert didn't hesitate to answer. He knew that the best option was to choose a lesser effect guarantee. But, knowing his client was a Shedever, Albert opted for the risky one.

"The Spell Contract."

Sorath smirked.

"Come sit, and let's talk about my commission."

As Albert sat on his chair, the maid walked in with a tea set and a scroll. She laid out the cups on the table and poured them tea.

"Thank you, Marie."

Marie nodded. As she was handing the scroll to Sorath, he raised his hand.

"Take that back, and call the family's mage instead."

"Yes, Young Master."

While waiting for the mage, Sorath explained the differences between the guarantees. Not wanting to irk him, Albert sat still and listened closely even though he already knew.

First, Soul Contract. It was a contract written on a special scroll. Once both parties agreed, their souls were bound to contract. If one of them — although in most cases, the recipient — broke the contract's condition, the contractor would have control over them. In other words, it was a slave contract.

Then there was the Spell Contract. This contract had different effects upon broken depending on the individual or group. The effect could be lighter or heavier than the Soul Contract.

For Shedever's Spell Contract, if the recipient was to break their contract. They would die instantly no matter where they were at the moment.

The mage arrived as soon as Sorath finished explaining them to Albert.

Because of the tension and having to listen to Sorath, Albert forgot about his tea. While Sorath's cup had no tea left, his was still full and becoming cold.

"You've come, Mage."

Sorath waved his hand, gesturing for the old mage to come. After a bow, the old mage walked and stopped beside him, listening to Sorath's whisper.

Noticing the random luck, Albert used the chance to finish his tea. By the time he put the tea cup back, the old mage nodded and stood in front of him.

"Can you show me your hand?"

Albert extended his hand toward the mage without hesitation.

Taking the writer's hand, the old mage immediately recited a spell in a silent pronunciation. For Albert, what was supposed to be a short time felt like an eternity. He couldn't help but glance sideways as he waited for the old mage to finish his spell.

There, he found Sorath talking to someone on his watchphone. Somehow, Albert couldn't hear what Sorath was saying. But, he managed to catch a few words like "Assassin", "Outside", and "A bug", through lips reading.

"It's done."

The old mage bowed to Sorath and immediately walked out of the room, leaving the heir and the writer.

Feeling as though he had passed a trial, Albert looked at the spell engraved in the back of his hand like a tattoo. A combination between twin swords, and a serpent's head. That symbol had long been the Shedever family crest.

Now that Albert had that symbol imprinted on his skin. It meant he was, at the moment, protected and given the privilege to visit the Shedever's territory as he liked.

"Now, let's discuss the details of my commission."

Sorath smirked.

On the other hand, Albert swallowed his saliva. His nerves screamed, telling him they might not survive the pressure if he didn't do something. Closing his eyes, he let out a long breath. After that, he felt much better.

But, that good feeling didn't last longer than he expected. As soon as Sorath finished the details of his commission, the air inside Albert rebelled. He choked on what the Young Master who sat dignifiedly in front of him said.

This time, he could not hold back his emotions and ended up in an outburst. At the same time he got up from his chair, his palms slammed the table hard, sending teacups and teapots bouncing and crashing to the floor.

Crash!

"What did you say?! A book of prophecy?!"

At that time, his nerves sent him too many signals into his brain that he didn't realize what he had done. Only when Albert noticed Sorath's cold gaze did he learn what had happened.

He gasped.

"Y… Young Master…! I… I…"

Without finishing his words, he immediately bent down and picked up the shards on the floor while constantly apologizing.

Sorath didn't make a single sound. That made Albert even more panicky. Cold sweat drenched his clothes. He knew very well what would happen to him if he made someone from the Shedever family feel annoyed.

As his mind clouded with scenarios of his death, Sorath finally made a sound.

"What are you doing, Mr. Albert?"

However, his words didn't make it any better for Albert.


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