"Did you check the status back at HQ?"
The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey, exotic perfumes, and the faint, metallic tang of mana-infused cocktails, served in glasses etched with glowing runes that kept drinks at perfect temperatures.
"I never thought they would agree."
Many well-dressed patrons, some bearing subtle scars from battles, whispered deals over tables laden with platinum-rimmed platters.
"I got the signed shirt from Kylian."
"The Hero awards were crazy man, Jae Suk being 4th?" Hailey grumbled, her sweetened drink shaking in her hands. "I don't have a clue on how the rankings are measured."
She twirled the ends of her long crimson hair as her eyes rolled away in annoyance, she really had her bets on Jae but he was not promoted this year, a disappointment for most.
The low beats of music surrounded them, pulsing through the air like a living heartbeat in the Rosette.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, casting a kaleidoscope of radiant lights that danced across polished marble floors and velvet-upholstered booths.
"His number of gate clearances was lower than Ivan I guess." Maran mentioned confidently.
The tiredness in his posture was clear, his suit a cramped mess after a long day at work, even a manager of GHA is human after all.
He leaned back against the plush crimson cushions of their private booth, tucked away in a dimly lit alcove that offered a panoramic view of the club's central dance floor, where a few couples swayed under strobing lights that mimicked auroras.
"His number may have been low but he still had better ranks."
Their eyes landed across the table, his blonde hair gleamed across the passing light.
"Come on Jace, maybe a few A ranks but House Vladiva had a S rank closed and Ivan led the second charge," Maran replied.
"Yeah, you guys handled the management for that didn't you?" Ato asked.
"It was a mess." Maran gulped down the beer and sighed, his shoulder slumping down in relief of a distant memory. "Ace-32 had shit for an accounting team."
They all shared a chuckle, the lack of Human resources across GHA was a known fact among all.
The laughter echoed softly against the wards embedded in the walls, ensuring their conversation remained private amid the club's bustling energy.
"How's Sandra?" Jace asked.
Maran shifted slightly, his face mimicking a plethora of emotions before he settled on one.
"She's learning and adjusting, being a mom is… well new to her and Veer is a handful."
"I still can't believe you got the Blaze Queen of our batch to settle down." Hugo let out a chuckle as he slowly shook his head. his dark skin soothing him in the low lights. "She's a real firecracker, that one."
"Don't call it my luck yet." Maran replied with a shudder.
"We never did." They all said in unison.
"You fell into the deep there, my boy." Jace mourned.
"The infamous Mouse is not surviving that shit." Ato agreed.
Once they settled back with the laughs, a waitress placed a second round of drinks on the table, a woman in her early twenties, her eyes lingering on Hugh.
She moved with practiced grace, her uniform a sleek black ensemble that shimmered under the club's ethereal lighting, navigating through clusters of guests who lounged on elevated platforms overlooking the bar, a gleaming expanse of obsidian countertops where bartenders mixed elixirs with flair, occasionally igniting flames from their fingertips for show.
"Do you need anything else?" She asked expectedly.
"That would be all." Ato answered, waving her away with a polite smile.
"What's with the Ruby Knights?" Maran asked. "I saw Leira a few days ago, she was… busy."
"She is." Hailey replied, her guild leader had been on a packed schedule for a while now. "We won the auction for the B rank Gates of Redark in Ace-12 but the processing from GHA is taking forever and the board is pressing for more acquisitions."
"Can't she overrule them?" Ato asked.
"Not always." Hailey shook her head. "And what's up with you?"
"Father has called me back to Sen-2." Ato answered. "I think he wants me to lead the A rank crawl or participate in the least and Hugo has been commissioned."
"Payday baby." Hugo smiled proudly.
"I heard Dekra is trying for a dark sector." Hailey raised her brows cautiously.
All eyes on the table slowly turned towards the man at the head of it.
The long blonde hair parting to reveal a clean young face.
He had a white tuxedo and under it peeked a black shirt, a few unbuttoned, revealing a chiseled chest. A glass of wine in his hand.
"We are." He said casually. "My grandfather wishes to lead a conquest before he gives up the lordship."
There were a multitude different reactions to his words and he noticed them.
Some took it as news, some saw it as a calculative opportunity, a few as something more.
"The Blade Giant is stepping down." Maran said with a heavy sigh, his words carrying the weight of a legacy.
"I can't believe he has not given up earlier." Ato shrugged, her petite frame leaned against the seat like a cat.
"That man survived the Zacrrak, he would manage old age pretty easily." Jace replied with a smile, one carrying an easy comfort.
They nodded in unison, an acknowledgment for a hero that fought and survived the 3rd disaster.
"When are you leaving?" Hugo asked.
Jace looked down in exasperation, he felt his phone vibrate.
[Celine: It is late, Young Master.]
"Soon." Jace replied slowly. "A week or two."
His answer was met with nods from around the table, the easy acknowledgment of people, who didn't need words to understand the weight of it.
Then a silence slowly descended, soft and heavy.
No one spoke, but the same thought echoed in every mind:
'This was it.'
A final gathering.
Jace's gaze drifted across the booth, lingering on each face as if committing them to memory one last time. Hailey's sharp eyes softened for a fraction of a second. Ato's playful smirk faded into something quieter. Maran stared into his glass like it held answers. Hugo's broad shoulders seemed to carry an extra burden under the club's shifting lights.
He let out a low chuckle, the sound warm but edged with something bittersweet, as one memory rose above the others like a flare in the dark.
"...You guys remember the Nightstalker?" Jace asked, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
For a moment, blank stares and arched brows met him, until recognition sparked.
"Back in second year!" Ato chimed in first, her frame bouncing slightly as she giggled, eyes lighting up. "A week before we even named the party."
"Oh yeah!" The others nodded in unison, smiles breaking across their faces as the distant memory resurfaced, pulling them back to simpler days.
Hailey leaned forward, pointing an accusatory finger at Hugo, her long hair swaying as she grinned wickedly. "You were crying like a fucking baby after that."
Hugo froze mid-sip, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. His mouth gaped, nearly spilling his drink across the polished table.
"I thought I lost my arms!" he protested, voice rising in mock indignation, though the flush creeping up his face betrayed lingering embarrassment. "And geez, those were manly tears, okay? Manly."
"Sure, man," Maran drawled, chuckling as he slouched deeper into the booth, the exhaustion in his posture giving way to genuine amusement. His tired eyes crinkled at the corner.
"You're one to talk, you fucking rat," Hugo shot back, turning the tables with a broad, toothy grin that flashed his gold rings under the chandelier light. He jabbed a thick finger toward Maran. "You ran the second you saw it was a Nightstalker."
"How many times do I have to say this!" Maran groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up before raking them through his messy hair. His voice carried that familiar defensive whine they all knew too well. "It was a tactical maneuver. I circled around, flanked it, and finished the damn thing, didn't I? I'm a genius."
"You're a fucking kill-stealer is what you are," Hailey cut in, her grin sharpening, eyes glinting with the competitive fire that had always driven her. "Jace had that handled."
"Come on, that's not true," Maran protested weakly, turning toward Ato with pleading eyes. "Ato, back me up here. You saw me fighting it, right?"
Ato tilted her head like a curious cat, lips pursed in exaggerated contemplation as she tapped a finger against her chin, drawing out the moment just to watch Maran squirm.
"...Nah, man," she finally said, voice light and teasing. "Looked like Jace had it under control."
"You guys are assholes," Maran muttered, leaning back with a defeated sigh, though the shake of his head and the reluctant smile tugging at his lips showed he didn't mean it.
The fight drained out of him, replaced by the comfortable surrender of old banter.
Laughter rippled around the table again, warm and unguarded, cutting through the club's distant bass and murmured conversations.
For a brief moment, the weight of impending departures lifted.
"It feels like so long ago," Jace muttered under his breath, his voice quieter now, the smirk fading into something softer, almost wistful.
They all fell silent again, agreeing without words.
A gentle wave of nostalgia washed over the booth, memories of academy dorms, reckless dives, late-night sessions that dissolved into stupid arguments and laughter.
Hugo was the first to move. He pushed himself up from his seat, broad frame casting a shadow across the table as he raised his glass high.
His deep voice carried steady conviction, the kind that had always rallied them when things looked grim.
"For new beginnings."
The Moon Fox followed one by one—Jace first, his movements measured and deliberate; then Ato with a playful flourish; Maran with a tired but sincere lift; and finally Hailey, her sharp gaze softening as she joined them.
"For the farewell, for conquest, for money, for family… and for us, the Moon Fox," Hugo declared, cup held high.
"For Moon Fox!" they cheered in unison, glasses clinking with a bright, resonant sound that felt both celebratory and final.
Jace downed the last of his wine in one smooth motion, the rich liquid warming his throat as he set the empty glass down. He rose from the booth, straightening his white tuxedo.
"See you, dickheads," he said, voice casual but thick with everything left unsaid.
"And you, asshole," Hailey yelled back without missing a beat, flipping him off with a fierce grin that didn't quite hide the glimmer in her eyes.
Jace shook his head, a faint smile lingering as he walked away.
He pushed through the heavy glass doors, The night air hit cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain on polished stone.
A line of sleek black cars idled along the valet curb, their headlights cutting soft beams through the dark, while uniformed attendants hovered discreetly nearby.
Waiting beside a matte-black sedan, its lines sharp and understated, the Dekra family crest barely visible on the door, was Celine.
She stood straight-backed, hands clasped behind her, the club's neon glow catching on her short platinum-blonde hair and making her pale skin look almost luminous.
Even in the low light, her expression was the same one Jace had known for years: calm, precise, and just stern enough to remind everyone around her that time was a resource not to be wasted.
She was a few inches shorter than him, but somehow always managed to look like she was the one in charge.
"Young Master," she said evenly as he approached, giving a small, formal nod. "You're twenty-three minutes later than expected."
Jace grinned, hands sliding into his pockets as he slowed his stride just to watch her eyebrow twitch. "Aw, were you worried I'd gotten lost in there or maybe you thought I'd run off with one of those waitresses?"
Celine's lips pressed into a thin line. "I was concerned the valet might scratch the paint while I waited."
He laughed under his breath, the sound light and teasing. "Liar. You just missed me."
She didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, she opened the driver's door with practiced efficiency and slid behind the wheel.
Jace circled to the passenger side and dropped into the cool leather seat, the door closing with a solid, expensive thunk.
As the car pulled smoothly away from the curb, Celine's voice shifted into the crisp, professional tone she reserved for reports.
"Master Lenard has begun recalling the vanguard units from their postings. All leave has been canceled, and the forward supply teams departed for the staging zone this morning. Preparation for the conquest is now sole priority."
Jace leaned back, watching the city lights streak past the tinted windows. "Father's moving fast. I thought he'd wait until Grandfather officially stepped down."
"Your grandfather has already transferred operational command," Celine replied, eyes fixed on the road. "Master Lenard sees no reason to delay."
The car eased onto a quieter boulevard, the bright chaos of downtown gradually giving way to wider streets and taller gates. Jace drummed his fingers lightly on the armrest.
"What about the gear I asked for?"
"Most of the requested items have been secured through legitimate channels. The remaining pieces-" She paused, just long enough for Jace to know what came next. "-Connor sends word that delivery will be a day late."
Jace exhaled through his nose, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. "A day. That slimy bastard always cuts it close."
"I reminded him of the consequences of disappointing the family," Celine said coolly. "He assured me it would not happen again."
"Good. Tell him it's fine this time," Jace said, voice lazy but edged with steel. "But make sure he understands there won't be a next."
"Understood, Young Master."
Silence settled comfortably between them as the city lights thinned.
The car turned into an exclusive residential district where streetlamps were spaced far apart, casting pools of soft gold on manicured hedges and high stone walls.
One by one, grand mansions slid past, modern palaces of glass and marble, each set back on acres of private land, their windows glowing warmly against the night.
Finally, the sedan slowed and turned through a pair of towering iron gates that parted silently at their approach.
The driveway curved through landscaped gardens before ending in front of the Dekra estate: a sprawling, three-story manor of dark stone and sharp angles, its rooflines cutting boldly against the starlit sky.
Celine brought the car to a smooth stop beneath the portico. For a moment, neither moved. The engine ticked softly as it cooled.
Without a word, they both stepped out. The night air here was quieter, heavier with the scent of evergreen and damp earth. Jace straightened his tuxedo jacket; Celine closed the driver's door with a muted click.
Side by side, they walked up the wide stone steps toward the massive front doors—two figures in the dark, footsteps echoing faintly, the weight of tomorrow already pressing down on the silence between them.
—---
I lay there in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, the silk sheets cool against my skin, tangled around our legs.
It has been two months.
Two months since I woke up in this god forsaken world.
TheStringlessKiter.
That was the name of the author, who wrote this story.
A classic and common light novel premise.
A world with gates, rifts that lead to a dimension filled with monsters, people with superpowers called Hunters or Heroes or Awakeners.
Her body was pressed close to mine, her skin flushed in the low light, her short hair fanned out on the pillow like a halo I knew better than to believe in.
And as always a Hero, a Villain and a Demon King.
'The Hero of Golden Dawn' was the name of the novel.
I wouldn't say I was a fanatic reader but I did read it until the very end.
It reminded me of a masterpiece called the War of the Worlds, a war between humanity and an extraterrestrial race and humanity survives it.
It didn't win, it didn't lose, it survived, no thanks to themself, they survived because the aliens were not immune to the microorganisms of Earth, humanity got lucky.
Her stern facade cracking just enough in the quiet of the mansion, my teasing giving way to something simpler, more immediate.
Her hand traced lazy patterns across my chest, fingers light but sure, mapping the lines of muscle she'd come to know over the years.
I pulled her closer, my arm wrapping around her waist, feeling the subtle curve of her hip under my palm.
She shifted against me, her breath warm on my neck, and I tilted her chin up with a gentle nudge, our lips meeting in a kiss that was familiar, unhurried. No grand declarations, just the easy rhythm we'd built, people who understood the release without the strings.
This story followed the same way, the Hero, the villain and the demon king, they all died, leaving this world a desolated mess.
I deepened the kiss, tasting the faint hint of mint from her evening routine, my hand sliding up her back, fingers splaying across her shoulder blades.
She responded with a hard moan, her body arching into mine, the intimacy of it all wrapping around us like the shadows in the room.
Her legs intertwined with mine, pulling me in, and I let myself get lost in the sensation, the warmth of her skin, the way her breath quickened against my ear, the quiet sounds that escaped her lips as we moved together.
There is no saving this world, no matter what I do.
The demon king was destined to break free regardless of what happens and he dies regardless of what happens.
So I made a decision to live in this ruined world for myself.
Because The Hero of Golden Dawn was but a prequel to another novel that happens 3 centuries later.
Her nails grazed my sides lightly, sending a shiver through me, and I held her tighter, our movements syncing in that effortless way born from practice.
No rush, no pretense, just the comfort of her body against mine, the shared silence broken only by our breaths mingling, building to a peak that left us both spent and sated.
Afterward, she rested her head on my chest, her breathing steadying as I stroked her hair absently.
The room settled back into quiet, the mansion's vast emptiness outside the door feeling a world away.
My name is Jace Dekra and I am a Villain in this Ruined World.