My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines
Chapter 124 - A Big Secret... or Just a Fluke

Chapter 124: Chapter 124 - A Big Secret... or Just a Fluke

Cruxius arrived at the doorway of the office, his eyes scanning the room as he halted. There was nothing but cold silence.

His gaze flickered across the scene until he noticed the bloodied floor and the servants lying motionless, with a lump of meat stained in blood before them.

It didn’t faze him—except for one detail: it was a heart. Given his experience in killing countless people, he instantly recognized it.

Following the trail of blood, he found a body sprawled on the floor—a man in a black butler’s outfit, clearly dead. At that moment, something inside Cruxius seemed to snap.

There was no regret, only raw anger, before his attention turned toward the man seated nearby, slumped as if he had lost everything.

This gave Cruxius just enough time to ask his questions.

It might not have been the right time, but for Cruxius, this was exactly the moment he needed—his father emotionally broken, or at least in a state where he had nothing left to lose.

Perhaps this vulnerability would work in his favor, as regrets only come to those unable to undo their mistakes.

Without any change in expression, Cruxius moved forward, stepping over the bloodied floor until he stood before the head of the Blac family. He inquired quietly, "Where is mother’s grave?"

The question hung in the air—something Cruxius had never discovered in his past life.

It was the piece that had kept him teetering on the edge of confusion, unsure whether he could accept that the day he saw his mother die was truly the end.

He had been used as a hostage and had witnessed his mother getting beheaded in a way that felt almost intentional.

Yet, there had been no emotional trauma ignited back then—at least not enough to fuel his vengeance against the royal family.

The only truth he knew was that his mother had been nearly unkillable.

So the fact remained: he wasn’t aware of the full truth. Perhaps this man—the head of the family—was.

Initially, Cruxius had planned to find a woman with the power of mind reading, make her fall for him, and then use her abilities to pry into the head of the family’s mind.

But with the curse in place, he had long since dismissed any hope that such an effort might succeed.

Now, with the butler dead and his father in this broken state, an opportunity had opened—a chance to finally get what he wanted.

"...Oh, son?" The head of the family slowly lifted his gaze. His eyes blinked, lips dry and parting, his mind seemingly frozen.

The trauma, the pain, the sudden shock had shattered the mental fortitude with which he had built the entire Blac empire—revealing a man broken, far removed from the ruthless business tycoon Cruxius had always known.

The cold, unapproachable aura surrounding him had vanished, leaving only a broken figure—someone utterly different from the father Cruxius had witnessed all his life, now barely holding on at the deathbed.

’This old man...?’ Cruxius wondered, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. The voice, the posture—all of it felt like an act. His father was pretending to be broken.

Yeah, he could see that his old man was clearly acting as if he was ill. But Cruxius didn’t understand exactly why.

"Where is mother’s grave?"

The silence returned. Tense. Suffocating.

The man across from him did not respond right away. Instead, he just looked at his son with hollowed eyes, his expression unreadable.

And then—he smiled.

Not out of joy. Not out of grief. It was slow, stiff, crawling up his face like something forced.

Cruxius didn’t miss it.

He tracked every subtle motion. The way his father’s fingers gripped the table beside him as he tried to stand—pretending weakness, acting as if the weight of the world had crushed his spine.

His body rose sluggishly, yet with too much control. He extended his hand slightly, as if seeking Cruxius’s support... but when Cruxius didn’t move, didn’t flinch, the hand retreated. Quiet. Withdrawn.

The smile cracked.

Their gazes met—and Cruxius saw it. The flicker of frustration. The disappointment that his son hadn’t walked into the scene he had prepared.

A faint frown touched his father’s brow.

Still acting.

Cruxius kept his expression neutral, eyes unwavering. He wasn’t moved. He wasn’t fooled.

And his father... he saw that. His mouth twitched. The edge of his control frayed for just a heartbeat.

But still, the performance continued.

He slumped back into the chair, playing the exhausted, grieving patriarch now crumbling under regret.

A lie.

Cruxius saw it all. The broken mask that refused to shatter fully. His father’s pride refused to let him be honest. Not even now.

Still, he knew—now that the invitation from the Lord had arrived, the restriction on his mind had lifted. He could speak. The curse that had prevented him from revealing the truth no longer applied.

Yet... he didn’t.

Not because he couldn’t.

Because he wouldn’t.

That damn pride again.

Yes, that was one of the few things Cruxius could think of—stopping his father from revealing things in a straightforward way. Rather, he was trying to act in such a way as to tell him the truth.

But it was harder than Cruxius had initially thought.

"I don’t know, son."

Cruxius just watched, seeing how that mask of stubbornness didn’t seem to have any impact on his determination to hear the truth. He sighed before saying,

"Stop acting, Dad. You know you can’t act well."

And with that, the silence broke.

"What? You knew?"

There was a momentary pause between them, as the man seemed confused that he had already been seen through. He sighed before straightening his back and took his seat.

At that moment, he looked like someone who truly was the head of an empire—not the degraded version Cruxius had seen a moment ago.

Cruxius just shook his head before taking the seat in front of him, observing his father return to his usual self. There was not even a hint of embarrassment on his face for acting that way in front of his son.

"Yes... and stop being cringe and just tell me everything, Dad."

Cruxius gave a firm glance, holding his father’s hand and looking directly at him, inquiring about the things he had needed to know but couldn’t in his last life.

The old man had died with that same stubbornness, refusing to tell him anything.

And Cruxius knew—if he were to return to the past again, as he inevitably would to make Ermond alive once more—this man would still not speak.

So it was better to hear it now.

"Your mother is not dead, son." The head of the family stated it as if revealing a universal secret that had been laced with so much intensity that he almost felt that his son would stand up and slam the table.

But it was only him who thought that. Given Cruxius just stood looking blankly, not giving a reaction that might be under his expectations.

"I know, next?" Cruxius just sighed, given this was a particular reason for which he did not act aggressively in this life.

Considering in the past he had definitely done a number of damage to the royal family only to know about this particular secret that his mother was alive and that it was her own plot to disguise her death as some kind of motivation for him.

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