Read Novel Full Chapter 397: A Night Out [I]
Chapter 397: A Night Out [I]
The knights had to swap their heavy sets of full armor for light tactical vests and civilian clothes to avoid drawing unnecessary attention.
It was a funny sight, watching men and women who usually looked like they could topple a small building with a single charge trying to blend in while wearing oversized hoodies and combat khakis.
Most of my family was currently hunkered down in the Golden Sanctuary, deeply engrossed in the logistics of the upcoming war and drafting strategies to ensure we prevailed.
This meant the estate was mainly occupied by servants and guards right now.
Which was honestly a relief, because I was in no mood to deal with anyone annoying — which basically summed up everyone in my entire bloodline. Yes... myself included.
I quickly ran up to my room, which was in the exact same state I’d left it in, and threw the Vajra and Aurieth onto the bed.
Then I myself proceeded to change into something suited for a night out before tossing a fresh set of clothes to Michael as well.
Juliana, meanwhile, disappeared to find a dress of her own.
Once Michael and I were ready, I led him down to my private garage, wanting to show him off my collection of sports cars.
I figured if anything could cheer him up at this point, it was several million Credits’ worth of high-performance machinery.
Because what man doesn’t appreciate the beauty of a cold-start engine that sounds like a dragon purring?
Right?!
...Not this man, apparently.
Michael still looked as dead as a fish out of water.
Yet, I was determined!
I walked over to my personal favorite: a low-slung, midnight-blue roadster with gold-rimmed wheels and a chassis enchanted to ignore wind resistance.
And yes, I mentioned tires.
This baby had jet propulsion installed so she could hover like a modern car, but I also kept the physical tires for the aesthetic — and for those moments when you just wanted to feel the road beneath you.
The permit for her was insanely expensive, but every Credit was so worth it.
"See this?" I nudged Michael with my shoulder, gesturing toward the hood. "V-12 E-Core engine. Zero to sixty in ’you’re already dead.’ It even has a built-in silence charm so you don’t wake the neighbors when you’re breaking the sound barrier! Can you believe it?"
Michael stared at the car.
His dark eyes tracked the golden accents for a heartbeat, and for a heartbeat, I thought I saw a spark of life return to his dull expression.
Until he let out a long, shaky, utterly soul-crushing sigh.
"It’s very shiny, Sam. Very beautiful," he croaked. "Reminds me of her..."
I blinked at him, then whipped my gaze back to the machinery, utterly bamboozled.
Then I turned back to him again. "The car? The car reminds you of her? Of Lily?"
He nodded silently. "She was just as beautiful."
I... was speechless. "Impossible."
"No, she really was..."
"No, I mean you’re impossible."
"...I was for her."
Ohh-kay! I tried.
•••
We arrived at our destination in an executive sedan.
"Gentlemen! And Juli!" I declared, splaying my hands wide before adjusting my collar as we stood in front of the neon-drenched entrance of Aureum. It was the most exclusive club in the Noble District, catering specifically to young aristocrats with more money than sense. "Welcome back to civilization. Try not to break anything. Or anyone."
Michael still looked like he was attending his own funeral.
He was wearing one of my black shirts with golden linings that likely cost more than a middle-class man’s annual salary, but he still carried himself with the grace of a man walking toward a guillotine.
I had also given him an eye patch — because in case you’d forgotten, the poor guy was still down an eye — but that had only seemed to amplify his already overwhelming gloomy vibes.
Juliana, on the other hand, was just... being Juliana.
She had donned a wine-colored sequin halter top and paired it with a black high-rise satin mini skirt.
After throwing on a pair of dark, over-the-knee suede boots and accessorizing with silver jewelry, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she was turning even more heads than usual this evening.
The warmth of her burgundy top looked striking against her pale skin, while the sequins caught the shifting light in a way that only brought out the irresistible allure of her glacial blue eyes.
Now, I don’t know how to explain this without sounding like a total creep, but I always liked the way she dressed.
Obviously, she followed trends, but unlike most noblewomen who either dressed far too modestly or showed so much skin it bordered on tasteless indecency, Juliana had a knack for blending high-fashion elegance with just the right amount of suggestive appeal.
Again, I had nothing against how others dressed. Everyone was free to do as they pleased.
I just preferred her style. It was neither too provocative nor too modest — she just dressed to kill... both figuratively and literally, as I had been reminded quite recently.
"Ahem." Clearing my throat, I felt a sudden urge to check my own reflection on a nearby shiny surface. But, of course, I didn’t.
Because I already knew I looked fine. In fact, with a deep velvet emerald blazer over a heavy silk shirt left unbuttoned down to my chest and high-waisted wool trousers, I looked more than fine.
I looked drop-dead gorgeous, as per usual.
...Though my only regret was that the guards, who had now blended into the crowd around us and would continue to tail us in this manner, had urged me to use a Transformation Card to alter my appearance.
So, instead of my dashing blond looks, I was currently sporting a messy hazel mop and dull brown eyes. My facial structure also grew more square now instead of all sharp features, and my frame had dropped a few inches in height.
It was a sad, sad sight.
But the knights were practically begging me to stay incognito, so I eventually gave in... albeit not before throwing a tantrum.
•••
The line for Aureum was so long it could’ve wrapped around the entire block twice.
Young men and women in all kinds of designer clothes were practically begging the bouncer — a mountain of a man with a cybernetic ear — for a chance to spend their parents’ money inside.
"Aghh," Michael groaned. "The line is so long I’ll die here. Maybe that would be for the best."
I rolled my eyes. "Just shut up and follow me, dude."
As we approached, the bouncer stepped forward, his hand raised to stop us. Then he saw me and paused, squinting like he was trying to see through my deception.
The Transformation Card I had in use was a Rare-grade (or a B-rank) Card. But this imposing man seemed to be an A-ranked Awakened. He could, indeed, see through the charm.
Surely enough, before long, his eyes went wide and he practically folded in half. "L-Lord Samael? There was no news—ahh... my apologies. Please enter. The VIP lounge is ready for you."
"...Of course," Michael muttered, his voice a dull monotone. "Of course even a bouncer at a high-end nightclub would know you."
I chuckled, stepping past the velvet rope without sparing a single glance at the disgruntled crowd.
Inside, the bass was loud enough to physically hammer against my eardrums, vibrating through the gold-plated floor and into my very marrow.
But it was exactly what I needed — enough sensory overload to drown out all the other thoughts jumping around in my head.
This numbness was one of the reasons why I first took a liking to drinking and partying.
You see, because of my ADHD, my brain doesn’t usually stop moving. It is always in search of something interesting to do or think about.
In simple terms, I guess if there was the mental equivalent of a hamster wheel, my mind would be the hamster constantly running on it, never taking any breaks to slow down or unwind.
I never realized how exhausting it was until I took my first few swigs of alcohol at age twelve. When I did, my brain at last decided it was about time to take a long breather.
An alien sensation overtook me, as if the overworked hamster in my head finally kicked its shoes off to lazily lounge on the couch.
It was a nice feeling, one that made me see the appeal of alcohol. Because I was only ever at true peace when I was blackout drunk.
What? No, it’s not sad! Shut up!
Anyway, we found a nice booth that looked out over the dance floor.
Juliana sat on the edge of her seat, her back straight, legs crossed, and lip gloss glistening magnetically under the disco lights. She was watching the crowd with visible curiosity.
"You know, I’ve been here a few times, but I never understood why all these trendy dances look so weird. They look like rituals," she said, leaning toward me from across the table so I could hear her over the music. "Like, who are they trying to summon?"
"I... think it looks fine. They’re just moving and having fun," I yelled back.
"It looks like an inefficient waste of energy," she remarked. "What would they do if something attacked them right now? They’re not in a position to retaliate fast enough."
I wanted to explain to her the concept of fun, and how being attacked while unguarded would be the absolute last thing in the world on anyone’s mind here.
But then again, Juliana didn’t function like anyone else here.
Wait, actually, now that I was thinking about it... I didn’t think I’d ever seen her dance! Like, not even once.
I had dragged her along with me to my various parties on more than a few occasions, and she had definitely been on night outs with her other ’friends’ back in high school — so I had seen on online posts as well.
But I had never actually witnessed the phenomenon of Juliana Vox Blade in motion on a dance floor.
...Could she even do it?
I leaned back in my seat, letting the impossible question juggle in my head for a few beats.
I had always assumed that there wasn’t a single thing Juliana couldn’t do.
But could one such mundane weakness of hers be hiding under my nose all this time?
Could there really be one thing she was not good at?
After a bit of pondering, I lifted my gaze and found her looking back straight at me. "Can you even dance, Juli?"
Yeah, I asked her straight up.
But Juliana didn’t react to my question at all. Which, in her case, meant she was thinking of a way to deflect the topic.
From beside me, Michael let out an anxious sound. "Sam... look at that dangerous expression on her face. Don’t encourage this. Please. I’m already emotionally fragile enough as it is."
"I’m not encouraging anything," I said. "I’m just curious."
Juliana tilted her head a little, then responded after a while. "...Define ’dance.’"
I blinked. I expected deflection but that was unexpected.
Michael groaned. "Oh no."
"Don’t ’oh no’ me," I muttered. "It’s a simple question."
"Simple questions lead to terrible outcomes," he replied flatly. "My gut feeling says this is one of those instances where we all would regret it."
Well, his gut feeling was almost always right. But still, I couldn’t back down after finally finding something that even the supposedly perfect Juliana can’t do, so I ignored him and leaned forward.
"You freely move your body to music. Freely!" I specified. "No objective, or combat, or winning. Not those stiff, elegant ballroom dances we’re forced to do, obviously. Just... express yourself."
Juliana processed my words slowly... very slowly.
"...So," she said, "there are no rules, you say?"
"No."
"No opponent?"
"Not unless it’s a dance battle."
"No strategy?"
"...Not in the traditional sense."
She nodded once. "That sounds remarkably inefficient."
"Yeah, you’ve said that."
That prompted her to take another long pause. Then she said something that made me think I was hallucinating.
"I would like to try," she shrugged.
I’m not proud of how I reacted to that.
I froze.
Yeah...
In my defense, she had basically just asked to dance with me! Or... did she? That was an invitation, right? Or was it a trap?
Oh my god! It was a trap!
She was going to finally kill me! I knew she was still angry at me for that comment I made about her haircut!
This was obviously a well-planned outing designed to lure me into a false sense of security before she broke my spine in a dimly lit VIP booth! Like a sheep led to a butcher!
Yes!
Obviously!
That would explain Michael’s gut feeling too!
This wasn’t a night out. This was a high-stakes assassination attempt!
Thankfully, before I could be martyred, my brother from another mother jumped in to save my life.
Michael sobbed out loud, his shoulders slumping. "This conversation... reminds me of her."
This time it was Juliana’s turn to blink. "This reminds you of her? Of Lily?"
Michael bobbed his head, bravely holding back waterworks. "She used to dance too."
...Wow.
His standards for reminiscing were getting impressively specific.
Thwack—
Juliana just smacked his hand hard.
He flinched. "Ow! What was that for?"
"Stop it! Stop sulking! It’s getting annoying," she said, wrinkling her nose slightly as if his grief itself was a personal inconvenience. "Once back at the Academy, I’ll set you up with someone better. Okay... it’ll be hard finding someone better than Lily. The girl was a catch. But we’ll just compensate for the quality a little. What’s your type in women?"
This time, both Michael and I blinked in unison. Hell, even the loud music in the background seemed to pause for a second out of respect for that sentence.
"You don’t compensate for love," the heartbroken Romeo protested.
Juliana crossed her arms. "You absolutely do. You adjust and optimize. That’s how you improve."
"...I hate that I actually understand what you mean," I grumbled.