Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System-Chapter 50: Snakes in the Grass

Snakes in the Grass

"My identity hasn’t been exposed, right?"

Evan’s voice was low and sharp, like a blade pressed against the throat.

He stood alone in the dim restroom, one hand braced against the marble sink, staring at his reflection. The fluorescent light above flickered faintly, casting pale shadows across his face. His jaw was tight. There was no panic in him—only calculation.

On the other end of the call, his subordinate answered without hesitation, "No, Obsidian King’s identity is absolutely confidential!"

"Absolutely?" Evan pressed, his tone dipping colder. "I don’t want reassurance. I want certainty."

There was a brief pause, the faint sound of papers shifting. "Our firewalls held. The transfer trails were scrubbed. No one traced the chain back to you. Not the regulators. Not the four households. And certainly not Julian."

Evan’s breathing steadied.

"Good. So we lost nearly a trillion?" His lips curved into a cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "Once I take down the four major households, this money will return tenfold... a hundredfold."

His subordinate hesitated. "Sir... with respect, that’s an enormous gamble."

"A gamble?" Evan let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "No. A sacrifice. There’s a difference."

He straightened, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. The mirror showed a composed man—controlled, refined, almost elegant. No one looking at him would imagine the storm moving behind his eyes.

"The four households are already circling each other," he continued calmly. "They think they’ve won this round. Let them celebrate. When their guard drops, I’ll tighten the net."

His tone carried an almost religious conviction.

There was silence on the line, then a softer question. "And Bianca De Dominicis?"

At the mention of her name, something flickered in his gaze—something darker than ambition.

"She’s not lost," he said quietly. "She’s just... misled."

"By Julian?"

Evan’s fingers tightened slightly around the phone. "Julian is a distraction. A temporary variable."

He ended the call.

As long as his identity remained hidden, everything could still be salvaged. Plans could fail. Money could vanish. But secrecy? That was survival.

Exposure meant vulnerability. Vulnerability meant death.

He exhaled slowly, grounding himself.

He would find another way to win over Bianca De Dominicis.

Charm. Influence. Pressure. Opportunity. People were predictable when you understood what they desired.

He had a thousand ways to conquer a woman.

As for Julian D’Aurelius—

The corner of Evan’s mouth twitched darkly.

Julian’s face flashed briefly in his mind—calm, confident, infuriatingly composed. The kind of man who didn’t look like he was trying... yet always seemed to stand at the center of the board.

The money Julian had earned this time... he would repay it with his life someday.

Not now. Not recklessly. But someday.

Evan pulled out his phone again, his movements unhurried. His expression had already settled back into that polished calm he wore so well.

He opened another chat window.

Liza Voss.

His most precise blade.

He typed slowly, deliberately.

"Within half a month, dig up every piece of dirt on D’Aurelius Group. I want the D’Aurelius household to suffer."

Three dots appeared almost instantly.

"Understood," Liza replied. "Public scandal? Financial disruption? Or something more... personal?"

Evan considered that, eyes lowering slightly.

"Start with their finances," he typed. "Audit weaknesses. Hidden liabilities. Anything that can rot from the inside."

A second message followed.

"And if you find something personal... keep it. I may need it later."

There was no emoji. No wasted word. Just efficiency.

"As you command."

He stared at the sent message for a second longer, then slipped the phone back into his pocket and walked out of the restroom.

---------

The late afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the residential lawn.

Evan crouched casually, eyes scanning the grass. Within seconds, his hand darted out.

A half-meter-long snake writhed in his grip.

He handled it with practiced ease, fingers precise and steady. With a quick, controlled motion, he removed its fangs.

Now it was harmless.

He sneered.

Then he strode toward Villa 8—the residence of the eldest daughter of the Valquin household, Gwen Valquin.

For the past two days, he hadn’t found an opportunity to approach her.

So he would create one.

That was always his method.

Seeing no one nearby, he flicked his wrist. The snake arced through the air and slipped cleanly through the slightly open second-floor window.

Evan stepped back into the shadows, positioning himself beneath the balcony.

Waiting.

Creating accidents. Playing the hero. Letting fear bloom before offering salvation.

Step by step.

This was his specialty.

---------

Meanwhile—

"Beep. The host has successfully survived the plot. Reward: Lunar Citadel. Ownership has been transferred to the host."

Julian D’Aurelius, who had been lying on his bed like a salted fish, suddenly froze.

He shot upright.

"What the hell? How did I survive the plot?" 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

He blinked, bewildered. He hadn’t even left the house.

"System, what did I do?" he asked inwardly.

"Successfully survived the plot of Chapter 77."

The Tyrant System’s voice echoed calmly in his mind.

Julian paused, then slowly recalled the storyline.

In Chapter 77, Obsidian King Evan’s scheme would have succeeded. Bianca would have fallen into his trap. De Dominicis Group’s five hundred billion would have been frozen. Ryan De Dominicis would begin seizing internal power. And then—

It would be Julian’s turn to fall.

"So that’s it..."

A grin spread across his face.

After acting cautiously and playing dead for so long, he had finally reaped a real reward.

Lunar Citadel.

The name sounded poetic, even understated.

But in Valemont, Lunar Citadel was legendary.

The only seven-star hotel in the entire city.

Even across Europe, it stood among the highest tiers of luxury establishments.

Estimated value? Two hundred billion.

Julian let out a satisfied breath.

He hadn’t expected the usually stingy Tyrant System to be this generous.

Of course, the D’Aurelius household was already absurdly wealthy.

But who in their right mind would complain about more money?

Still... if the system had granted him some ancient martial arts technique or a life-saving skill instead, that would’ve been even better.

He got up, changed clothes, and headed toward the garage.

He was just about to pick a sports car when his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

Company.

"What’s up?" Julian answered casually.

"Young Master D’Aurelius," the voice on the other end sounded excited. "The three hundred billion investment transferred to De Dominicis Group a few days ago has been returned—along with an additional one hundred and fifty billion in profits."

Julian froze.

"What?"

A faint chill crept up his spine.

That money was supposed to be frozen in the thermal power project, wasn’t it?

How did it come back?

And with profit?

Making money was great.

But this didn’t make any damn sense.

"Could the plot have collapsed again?"

Julian hung up immediately and dialed Bianca’s number.

The call connected quickly.

"What’s up, darling? Miss me?"

Her sweet, teasing voice flowed through the speaker.

For a split second, Julian’s mind betrayed him—images of bunny outfits and garter stockings flashing uninvited.

He cleared his throat.

"What’s going on with our last investment project?"

"Oh?" Bianca’s tone turned playful. "I suddenly found some issues with the partner company. After investigating, I discovered someone was trying to scam our De Dominicis household."

Her voice dipped slightly, amused.

"So I used the investment funds to short them instead. Made a little profit."

A little?

Julian almost choked.

"One hundred and fifty billion is ’a little’ to you?"

She laughed softly.

"Next time there’s a good money-making opportunity, I’ll call you, okay?"

Then, through the phone—

"Mua~"

The sound of a kiss brushed against his ear.

Julian stood in the garage, phone in hand, staring at nothing.

His heart beat once. Hard.

So the plot didn’t collapse by accident.

It was Bianca.

She had flipped the board.

And somewhere far away, an Obsidian King was probably bleeding internally.

Julian exhaled slowly.

The game had changed again.