Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 1029: A Mysterious Visitor

I was ready to hunt Daiki down and end this once and for all. My fists clenched, my mind already mapping out the quickest way to track him, to corner him, to make him pay for every ounce of suffering he’d caused. But before I could take a step, Hina’s voice cut through the charged silence of the office.

"Wait, Jack—look at this."

She turned on the TV mounted on the wall, and the screen flickered to life. The news feed was a whirlwind of chaos—breaking reports, financial alerts, and live footage of Daiki’s corporate headquarters in disarray.

His empire was crumbling in real time. Stocks plummeting. Assets frozen. Partners abandoning ship. His carefully constructed web of lies and corruption was unraveling before our eyes, exposed for the world to see.

I watched, my lips curling into a cold, satisfied smirk. "SERA," I said, my voice calm but commanding, "give me Daiki’s current status."

SERA’s response was instant, her voice crisp in my ear. "Daiki has been blindsided by the sudden collapse of his company. His financial assets have been seized, his accounts drained. He retains only the physical cash he had on hand—approximately 50 million yen, withdrawn in haste."

My eyes narrowed. "Where is he now?"

"Daiki fled with his son, Ryoto, and his daughter Ichika’s family—including her husband and child. They are headed to a rural property, off-grid and unregistered in any official documents. It appears to be a safe house, prepared for emergencies."

A slow, predatory smile spread across my face, my mind already three steps ahead. Of course, he had a bolt-hole.

Daiki wasn’t just a criminal—he was a rat, always prepared to scurry into the shadows when the light got too bright. But he didn’t understand the one fatal flaw in his plan: there was no hiding from me. Not anymore.

"He took the cash with him?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Affirmative. The cash is in the vehicle with him," SERA confirmed, her voice clinical.

I turned to Tomiko and Hina, their faces a mix of awe and unease as they watched me. "He’s running," I said, my voice a low, dangerous growl. "But he can’t run far enough."

Tomiko’s fingers tightened around her own arms, her breath shallow. "Jack, what are you going to do?"

I met her gaze, my expression unyielding. "You two manage the company affairs. I’ve already arranged for our people to take over here—they should arrive any minute." I didn’t wait for a response. There was no time to waste.

They nodded, though their eyes betrayed their worry. I didn’t let it slow me down.

I walked out of the office, the night air cool against my skin as I made my way to a secluded corner of the street.

With a thought, I pulled the artificial humans I’d acquired from my system storage—loyal, unquestioning, and ready to serve Tomiko in my absence. They stood at attention, their blank eyes reflecting the dim glow of the streetlights.

I didn’t spare them another glance. My focus was already elsewhere.

Sliding into Tomiko’s car, I gunned the engine and peeled out into the night, the tires screeching against the pavement.

The drive to Daiki’s rural hideout was a blur of dark roads and winding highways, the tension coiling tighter in my chest with every passing mile.

After an hour, the urban sprawl gave way to the dense, suffocating darkness of rural Japan. The GPS on my phone led me down a narrow, unpaved path, the car’s headlights cutting through the thick forest like a blade.

I parked a distance away, killing the engine and stepping out into the silence. The house was ahead—a modest, isolated structure, its windows dark. But the silence was broken by something else: the faint, muffled sound of screams from upstairs.

My blood ran cold.

I moved like a ghost, my footsteps silent on the damp earth as I approached the house. The front door was slightly ajar, the wood around the lock splintered—forced open.

My muscles coiled, ready for anything. I slipped inside, the floorboards groaning faintly under my weight.

Then I heard it.

A muffled, choking gasp. A wet, gurgling sound. And beneath it all—the high, broken sobs of a child.

My blood turned to ice.

I took the stairs three at a time; my heart was calm. The second floor was a slaughterhouse. The air was thick with the metallic stench of blood, the walls spattered with dark arcs where bodies had been thrown against them.

Ichika lay first, her throat slit ear to ear, her glassy eyes reflecting the dim moonlight filtering through the broken window. Ryoto was next, his young face frozen in shock, a knife wound blooming crimson over his heart.

No.

Daiki was on his knees in the corner, his hands clawing at his own throat, blood bubbling between his fingers. His eyes were wide, bulging with terror, his breath coming in ragged, drowning gasps.

Nearby, Ichika’s husband was sprawled across the floor, his limbs twisted at unnatural angles, his chest a ruin of stab wounds. But it was the bed that made my stomach twist.

A small boy—Ichika’s son—lay curled on his side, his tiny body trembling. His face was bruised, his lip split, but he was breathing. Alive. Barely.

Then I used Telekenesis to check where the killer had hidden.

I didn’t turn. Didn’t react. But I felt them—the killer, still here, hidden in the shadows behind the door. They moved with the unnatural stillness of a predator, their energy coiled tight, ready to strike. But there was no malice directed at me. No killing intent. Just... purpose.

I let my telekinesis ripple outward, a silent pulse of energy probing the darkness. The killer didn’t flinch, but I felt their focus sharpen. They were waiting. Watching.

Then—movement.

A blur of motion, faster than should be possible, and suddenly, the cold press of a blade was against my throat. I didn’t resist. Didn’t even tense. I already knew this wasn’t an attack. It was a test.

A female voice, low and lethal, breathed against my ear:

"Don’t move."

Her breath was warm against my skin, her grip on the knife steady—controlled. This wasn’t some mindless assassin. This was someone who had been waiting for this moment. Someone who had a score to settle.