The Villain's Story

Chapter 608: [608] War, And a trip!(3)

My name is Maxwell Parker, I stand at a height of about six feet and three inches. Quite tall, if I must say, but someone I know dwarfs even me. My hair is like golden silk, a characteristic of a man I hate with all the bones in my body, My eyes however, thankfully took the form of my mother. Not to say I like that woman, I just hate her less. They were blue.

A sharp jawline was present on my face, which was by no means any less deserving of it. I was the man many women would only dream for, or had read about in novels. Unfortunately, my idol like face had been ruined recently because of someone's antics.

Dark bags had found their way underneath my eyes, and a stubble had formed on my perfect jawline as well. I was also, not in character at all, in my undies. Underwear? I don't know what the slang the younger generation uses for it.

This had also been the second time this had happened. Alan Peccator, who was also my boss, or a partner, had visited me in this desperate time, where I was watching a movie.

Funny, wasn't it? Most people assumed I was working this late in the night. Not really, I was simply watching a movie. I'm a diligent man! I complete all my work in time, regardless of how much it has grown in volume these recent years.

Speaking of years? How old am I? I should be approaching my mid-twenties, but the bastard in front of me made me feel like I was above thirty. Fuck you, Alan. Respectfully.

"So, let me get this straight."

My voice, tired as I was, and the sore throat I was suffering from, was a burden to hear. I knew from experience. When I get like this, I had almost struck fear into the heart of poor Emma, who thought I was dying. I was not, But I must say, it was amusing to see her like that. At least she has a childhood worth remembering.

It was also great to receive her healing. I was proud to say I was maybe the first ever patient she treated with such seriousness. My... Or at least Alan's party is coming along well now. Although the leader has grown so much, he doesn't require their assistance at all.

"You want us, to go on a trip, theoretically for a YEAR, on a planet unknown, multiple planets, actually. Brimming with dangers that could kill us with but a thought. You not only want to bring your party into it, but dear old me, who is pathetic compared to them, who are pathetic compared to you. You also want to bring your lover to this dangerous trip?"

"Yeah?"

The response came quick, not at all a lengthy charade like his own. Maxwell sighed, and then, despondently, opened his drawer. Within it, was a magical desert eagle given to him by none other than Alan Peccator, a bullet made of gold was present inside as well. Which was strange because the magical item required no ammo, it would make its own with mana.

That bullet was special, not in the material sense. It was simply ordinary gold mixed with a few other metals to make it work like a bullet. Gold was beautiful, but weak. A great conductor, but weak. Hence, the bullet was impure.

It was meant to be put in his father's head, not Alan's.

Speaking of that, he was seriously considering shooting the fucker in the head, he could land such a shot with ease. One may have thought Maxwell would use the gun on himself, and to be honest. That was much better than using it on Alan.

Not only would Alan see the movements in his muscles the moment he started such a dangerous action, but he could feel the movement of mana from Maxwell, hurriedly forming a bullet. Before he could aim, His head would be ripped off.

Not cut, not bruised, but ripped off, his spine would follow, attached to his head but ripped from his body. The man could do it, easily as well.

But that was when Alan considered the one in front an enemy, he would be cautious from the start. Maxwell was not an enemy, so Alan would not be on guard. That could very well allow him a single attack, a single bullet to be fired.

'Not that it would do anything to that fucker.'

Indeed, it would do nothing to Alan's steel like skin. Unless the bullet took a time and a lot of time to form.

"I mean...the beings that can kill us with a thought are...friendly?"

Ah, the fucker is not even sure himself. Expected, I guess. I already knew there was a power behind him, and since they are behind him, and I am under him, It would be appropriate to say he had that backing as well?

But he did want to know how big this backing was.

"It's my mother, She wants us to go."

"... What?"

However, this sudden piece of information was confusing. Alan's mother was dead, buried six feet, probably more, in the ground. Maxwell had done his fair research on his friend's origins, and knew that without a doubt. His mother was dead.

"My guardian dragon... Ah, it's a bit complicated!"

"The fuck you mean complicated? You just mentioned a dead woman wants to meet us!"

"Not that... Uh... You see, the being that supports me, My guardian dragon, is akin to a mother to me... So I sometimes call her that, you know?"

"... So uh, can you convince the others and call them to prepare? Also pack a lot of things suitable for a very, very, very cold climate."

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Maxwell was left alone as Alan sheepishly left through his portal. He hated and loved that ability of his so, so much. It was so convenient, but had caught him lacking far too many times.

Of course, who would have thought that a fucking rift in space would appear at the most wrong times? Maxwell hoped Alan didn't use that on Sabrina, as many times he used it on him. The former would have a very, very different reaction if she was lacking.

Maxwell looked at his gun once more, seriously considering whether to put a bullet in his head or not.

"Nah."

In the end, he decided he would do it after he used the golden bullet, and slowly picked up his communicator to make preparations for the trip.

"Cold climate huh...Fuck."

He hated the cold.

One more coming :D