As A Mafia Boss, I Refuse To Be An Extra
Chapter 325: I’m Sorry
Alaric’s combat instincts took over.
He teleported directly to the portal exit that led back to the human world.
Whoosh
He materialized just as a figure burst through the dimensional barrier.
A woman stumbled out, her black hair matted with blood, her sharp features twisted with pain that went beyond physical injury.
Her clothes were shredded beyond recognition, revealing wounds that should have killed her hours ago. Blood covered her entirely, so much that her skin color was barely visible beneath the crimson.
But cradled against her chest, protected by her body despite everything, was a baby wrapped in cloth that remained somehow clean.
The woman’s eyes found Alaric immediately, locking onto his distinctive silver hair with desperate recognition.
She ran toward him with speed that should have been impossible, her legs barely supporting her weight, her Aura blazing with power that made the air distort.
"Teleport us! Somewhere safe! NOW!"
Her voice carried command despite the desperation, the tone of someone used to being obeyed without question.
Alaric didn’t hesitate.
Space folded around them.
Whoosh
They materialized in his residential quarters three kilometers from the portal exit.
The woman collapsed the moment they arrived, her legs giving out, her body hitting the floor hard.
But she never loosened her grip on the baby.
Her arms cradled the child like he was the only thing in the world that mattered anymore.
"A-Alaric Valcor?"
Her voice came out in gasps, each word forced through hyperventilation and pain.
"I’m... Darius’s wife..."
Alaric’s blood went cold.
"Take him! Take my child! Run! Get far from here! Please!"
Tears were streaming down her face, mixing with the blood, creating crimson trails through the crimson.
"What happened?! Where’s Darius?! The celebration was supposed to–"
"The Patriarch is dead!"
Her voice broke completely on those words, the sound of something fundamental shattering.
"They’re killing everyone! Men, women, children! Everyone with Bloodworth blood! Darius bought time but they’re coming and I can’t– I can’t–"
"WHO?!"
Alaric grabbed her shoulders, his combat training screaming that he needed information.
"Who’s attacking you?! Give me names and I can–"
"The birthday was perfect!"
She wasn’t listening, her mind fractured by trauma, words spilling out in desperate fragments.
"Everything was fine! I was in my room with both my babies! Just holding them! Watching them sleep! Then something happened above the estate! The Patriarch went to check and then... then..."
Her whole body shook violently.
"My husband came to my room covered in blood! My sister-in-law carried Big Crimson! They told me to take Little Crimson and RUN! She went one direction to draw them away! Darius brought me to the portal and told me to find YOU because no one else could be trusted!"
Suddenly she gasped, her hand flying to her chest.
She grabbed the necklace hanging beneath her torn clothes.
The pendant cracked.
Crack
Crack
Crack
Pieces fell to the floor, tinkling against the stone like broken glass.
"No..."
Her voice came out as a whisper.
"No no no no NO NO NO!"
The scream was primal, grief beyond anything Alaric had ever witnessed on battlefields where soldiers watched their comrades die.
"NOT MY BABY! NOT MY BIG CRIMSON! HOW DID THEY FIND HIM?!"
Her hands clawed at her own chest, nails drawing blood.
"SILVESTER WAS SUPPOSED TO KEEP HIM SAFE! SHE PROMISED! MY BABY! MY BABY!"
"What happened?! What was that necklace?!"
"Big Crimson is DEAD!"
Her bloodshot eyes met Alaric’s, madness creeping at the edges.
"The necklace was linked to his life! They found him! They killed my firstborn! They’re tracking us somehow! They’ll find Little Crimson too! THEY’LL KILL HIM!"
She clutched the baby tighter, her body curling around him protectively.
"Who is after you?! Give me a name! A description! Anything!"
"I DON’T KNOW!"
The wail that tore from her throat wasn’t human anymore.
"I don’t know why! I just know everyone is DYING and I can’t SAVE THEM!"
Something about the way she said it caught Alaric’s attention, a slight hesitation before the words that felt odd in the chaos.
’She said "why" not "who."’
The thought was fleeting, almost lost in the overwhelming horror of the situation.
But before he could process it further, she looked down at the infant in her arms, her expression shifting into something that went beyond desperation into territory Alaric had only seen when soldiers made their final stands.
She stood up with movements that defied her injuries.
Walked to the table.
Laid the baby down gently, her hands trembling as she unwrapped the cloth.
"What are you–"
Her fingernails extended, becoming black talons that gleamed with power Alaric couldn’t identify.
And she drove them into the baby’s tiny wrist.
WAAAAAAAAAH!
The infant’s scream tore through the room, piercing and helpless.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
Alaric lunged forward, but froze as her Aura exploded outward.
The pressure was immense and crushing, beyond anything he’d expected from an S rank.
’She’s... stronger than me... Far stronger.’
The realization was terrifying.
This woman who looked like she was dying was operating at a level that made his own power seem insignificant.
Blood poured from the baby’s wrist.
But before it could pool, her other hand moved in patterns too complex to follow.
The blood stopped flowing.
Reversed direction.
Began pulling back into the wound, changing somehow as dark Aura surrounded both her hands and the crying infant.
She was healing him while draining him, removing blood while preventing the damage from killing him.
Her hands moved to different parts of the small body, making precise cuts that bled for only moments before her power sealed them.
"I’m sorry baby! I’m so sorry! Mommy’s sorry! This will hurt but Mommy needs to save you! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry–"
Her voice broke between each apology, tears falling onto the baby’s skin.
Then her fingers pressed against the infant’s chest, directly over his heart.
Her Aura shifted, becoming visible as energy that flowed from her body into his.
’What IS this? I’ve never seen anything like it!’
The blood she’d removed seemed to be sealing itself inside the baby’s heart, contained by structures Alaric’s enhanced perception could barely detect.
The woman’s breathing became ragged, sweat mixing with blood on her face.
Then she plunged her hand into her own chest.
Through flesh and bone as if they were water.
Her hand emerged gripping her heart while she continued breathing, continued moving and continued functioning despite the impossibility.
Alaric watched in horror as she performed the same technique on herself, extracting something from her own heart, blood that glowed faintly, and transferring it into the baby.
She replaced her heart back inside, but her black hair began turning white from the roots down.
Her face aged, youth draining away, wrinkles appearing as whatever she was doing consumed her life.
"T-They’re tracking everyone with Bloodworth blood!"
Her voice came out damaged and hoarse.
"The family shares genetic markers! Aura signatures! They can TRACE them! I’m removing those from him! Severing the connection! If he doesn’t register as Bloodworth anymore, they can’t find him!"
"But that will damage the child!"
Horror filled Alaric’s voice.
"Removing his bloodline could cripple his potential! Destroy his ability to–"
Her eyes met his.
They were leaking blood, crimson tears cutting through her rapidly aging face.
And Alaric understood.
She didn’t care.
Not about potential or power or anything beyond keeping this child breathing for one more day.
Looking at this woman who showed zero regard for her own life, who was burning everything to save one small piece of what she’d lost, Alaric fell silent.
Then slowly he felt something harden in his chest.
And he disappeared.
Whoosh
Spatial manipulation carried him three buildings over, to the quarters of a servant he remembered mentioning having recently become a father.
The man looked up in shock as Alaric appeared in his living room.
"Sir Valcor! Is something–"
"I’m sorry."
Alaric’s voice was flat.
His katana clicked.
Click
One motion... Perfectly clean...
And two heads separated from two bodies before either victim could scream.