Chapter 276: Taking Everything Back
Months after the wedding, I stood at Harrison’s deathbed. People who knew me well might have suspected I had something to do with it, but I didn’t. I know I’m a degenerate, but I’m not that twisted.
The doctors called it aggressive pancreatic cancer—swift, brutal, and utterly incurable by conventional means.
I could have saved him if I wanted too.
Instead, I stood at the foot of his bed in the master suite, watching him waste away, and said nothing.
The room smelled of antiseptic and dying flowers. Harrison’s third wife sat by his left hand, her belly now seven months round with my child, her tears genuine enough as she clutched his fingers.
Bianca stood behind her, pressing a handkerchief to her eyes.
Astrid, had collapsed into a chair by the window, her sobs dramatic and loud. All three of them grieving the man they’d betrayed with me.
Honestly, it’s really scary how women can act like this.
"Come closer," Harrison whispered, his voice like paper crumpling.
I moved to the side of the bed, displacing Celeste, who stood with a grateful sob and pressed herself against Bianca.
Harrison’s eyes found mine. They were still sharp despite the wasting flesh, still held that politician’s cunning that had built his empire. He reached out with a hand like a bird’s claw and gripped my wrist.
"You’ve been good to them," he rasped. "I watched you. These past months. Taking care of Charlotte, Emma, the girls. Treating Celeste and the others with respect." He coughed, a wet, rattling sound. "You’re the son I never had. The heir this family needed."
I said nothing. What could I say? That I was the biological father of every child currently growing in this room?
That his "legacy" was a house of cards built on my semen and his ego? That the only reason I was here was to ensure he took the truth to his grave?
"I need you to do something for me," he continued, his grip tightening. "Swear it. Swear it on their lives. On my grandchildren’s lives."
The irony tasted like copper. I nodded slowly. "Anything."
"Protect them." His eyes were wet now, tears tracking through the gray pallor of his cheeks.
"No matter what happens. Protect my family. My wives. My daughters. My granddaughters. The children coming." He coughed again, harder this time, and I watched a spot of blood appear on his lip. "They’re everything. Everything I built. Everything I am."
I looked around the room at the nine women, all of them watching me with held breath, all of them knowing the truth, all of them waiting to see if I would honor this dying man’s last request or expose us all.
Celeste’s hand rested on her belly—my son kicking inside her. Bianca’s eyes were wide, pleading. Astrid had stopped crying and was staring at me.
They knew. If I saved him, if I brought in those treatments, he would recover. He would live another decade, maybe two.
That was bad news for everyone, because they were already tired of being my secret lovers. They wanted me to themselves. Not that I could blame them—my stamina and performance were out of this world, in a literal sense.
Death was a mercy, for him. At least by dying without knowing the truth, he would be able to reach the afterlife—if it existed—and brag about having loving wives and a competent son-in-law.
"I swear I will protect them. No matter what. They won’t be left wanting anything. They’ll be safe with me. The children will only know love and security. I’ll treat your children as my own."
Harrison’s grip loosened, the tension draining from his fingers.
"Good. Good. I knew... I knew you were the right choice. For my granddaughters. For all of them."
He closed his eyes. His breathing shallowed. The machines beeped their steady rhythm, counting down until it flatline.
Celeste stepped forward, her tears real now, her hand on my shoulder, her belly pressing against my arm.
"Thank you," she whispered, too low for him to hear. "Thank you for letting him have this. For letting him believe."
I didn’t respond. What was there to say?
No one in the room spoke. They were too afraid he might still be alive. I checked his pulse and gave a small signal that it was over. Only then did everyone exhale, the tension finally breaking.
Celeste took my hand and guided it to her stomach. "This is your child. Can you feel it?"
I didn’t know what to say. I already knew this simulation would end with me gone. Still, I acted like it mattered.
After burying Harrison, I became the new mayor. Nothing really changed—I had already been handling most of it anyway—but now it was official.
I focused on training more Second Phasers and also taught normal humans basic ways to fight monsters. This way, we could conserve our energy.
Soon, we began our expedition. As expected, we met resistance right away.
But none of us were afraid. My soldiers moved in coordination, and even after fighting hundreds of aliens, we had almost no casualties.
Still, I told them not to get complacent. The closer we got to the target zone, the stronger and more coordinated the monsters would become.
Just as we made camp that night, another group began approaching us. These ones were faster, stronger—amplified by the darkness itself.
My army reacted immediately, but I raised a hand.
"Stay where you are."
This was the moment they needed to see what I could do. Not just for victory—but for their morale.
I widened my stance and leveled my spear.
"Moonlight Dragon Lightning Strike."
In an instant, I vanished.
A flash of lightning tore through the night as I shot forward, cutting straight into the incoming wave. The strike didn’t clash or struggle—it simply passed through them.
One by one, they exploded before they could even form a defense.
"Moonlight Dragon Storm Sweep."
I spun my spear, and a cyclone erupted around me.
The wind turned violent, pulling everything inward before tearing it apart.
Within a 100-meter radius, the entire wave was shredded in an instant, leaving nothing but scattered remnants.
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