My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines
Chapter 37 - If You Chase, You Are a Dog

Chapter 37: Chapter 37 - If You Chase, You Are a Dog

Krieek

The door of the hotel room slowly slid open. Holding Thalia in his arms, Cruxius stepped inside, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched the trembling eyes of the girl clutched to his chest.

Her gaze flicked toward the room—the one she had wrecked earlier. Curtains torn, bed sheet ruined, furniture askew—enough damage to make the 5-star rating drop to the gutter.

"No—I-I will call the police if you—" Her voice stammered, grasping onto false hope, eyes darting to him. But it was pouring over her like warm water, the realization that she was once again going to be forced. Cruxius held her firmly as he walked toward the bed.

"They’ll hang up the moment you mention my name," he said, staring straight into her emerald eyes.

As they reached the bed, his hand retreated lower, and for a moment, it seemed like he might gently place her down.

But instead, the second his fingers let go of her collar, he threw her.

"Ah—Ow!"

Thalia’s body bounced lightly on the plush cushion of the mattress. Her back arched instinctively, legs curling up for balance—but the force made her bounce once, twice, before settling.

Her flimsy, thin floral dress fluttered up with the motion, the skirt lifting dangerously high to reveal the soft, unguarded expanse of her upper thighs and a teasing hint of lace between.

Her bare shoulders trembled, flushed pink from the sudden jolt, and her hair spilled wildly across the pillow as her chest rose and fell in shallow, panicked gasps.

She scrambled to cover herself, tugging at the hem, but it only made her look more vulnerable—desperate. Her hands gripped the fabric beneath her, trying to push herself up, but the plush mattress sucked at her limbs.

Her feet, still bare, struggled for traction, every move making the dress slide further up her thighs.

Her eyes stared at the man before her—an animal wearing the skin of a human. Her voice trembled, cracking in panic. "N-no, don’t come near me..."

"Shhh. It’ll be over soon," Cruxius murmured. The way she panicked amused him. He hadn’t started with such intentions, but seeing her flustered reactions stirred something twisted in him—but he was more than under control.

Slowly, deliberately, he began unbuttoning his shirt. His fingers moved from one button to the next, slow, calculated, teasing.

"No! SOMEONE HELP! PLEASE—n-no, please—mmph!" Thalia screamed, her voice reaching toward the balcony, desperate cries laced with raw fear. Her eyes were dampening, horror sinking into her very bones.

It was different when she was drugged. She hadn’t known what was happening then. But now—sober and aware—it would shatter her. Her mind reeled, spiraling, desperate for escape.

But her pleas were smothered when Cruxius pressed his hand over her lips, covering her scream.

"Hey, stop. I won’t do anything. I was just teasing you," he said.

He could see how close she was to tears. And even he—twisted as he might be—couldn’t stand her tears if they were truly because of him. Not anymore.

Maybe once, his younger self wouldn’t have cared. But now... Now he knew: submission earned was sweeter than anything taken by force.

"Mmmph?" Thalia blinked, eyes wide like glistening pools of green. Her pupils dropped toward the hand over her lips, trying to tell him she didn’t believe a word.

She struggled—her wrist caught in his grasp as she tried to push him away. Her body froze as he leaned in closer, face descending toward hers.

"Hey..." Cruxius whispered, forehead resting gently on hers.

It was small, tender—too soft for a man like him.

His hand slid down her lips, brushing them like petals, letting them tremble beneath his touch. His breath warmed her skin, and he whispered, "I regret what I did, Thalia. But I hope.... you’ll give me another chance. Remember my promise—I will never....never force you against your will."

His eyes were barely an inch away from hers, vulnerable and strangely sincere.

Slowly, he began to pull away. But Thalia, heart pounding, whispered with a blink, "Th-then let me go."

Cruxius’s smile vanished.

"Say that again, and I’ll forget my promise," he said bluntly.

He pushed himself off, knees pressing into the bed as he stood. Without care, he began removing the rest of his clothes, stripping bare right in front of her.

’!?’

"Y-you exhibitionist!" Thalia gasped, unable to look away fast enough. Her eyes widened at the sight of him—completely naked, that thing dangling between his legs.

His toned body, lean and hardened, was marred with red marks, her nails’ doing during protest. The realization made her cheeks burn, and she turned her face in shame, yelling toward the closing bathroom door.

As it shut behind him, she let out a shaky breath of relief. But the moment she turned her gaze back toward the room—she froze.

There was another woman in the room.

Her gaze snapped to the far corner of the room, where a familiar silhouette sat slouched over the velvet sofa. Darathi. Of course, it had to be her. But something was off. That cold, untouchable elegance she always carried... was gone.

Darathi’s eyes were hollow, staring at nothing. Her body, usually poised like a blade, looked limp—like a flower left out in the rain.

She wasn’t tied or restrained.

In fact, she seemed free to move. But she didn’t. She didn’t even blink when Thalia shifted on the mattress.

That was what made her freeze.

’Did that monster give her so much trauma?’

Thalia’s lips parted, the beginning of a question caught in her throat. But no words came.

Something about Darathi’s empty gaze said: Don’t ask. Don’t disturb me.

As if her silence was shielding something too shattered to be pieced back.

So, Thalia slowly rolled over, her dress riding up her thighs as she pushed herself upright. Bare feet touched the cold floor. She eyed the door.

Darathi didn’t react. Not a flinch. Not even a twitch.

’She’s not even aware I’m moving’, Thalia realized, a small smirk tugging at her lips. Perfect. Her body crept forward, every step soft, light, like a predator escaping its cage.

Just a few more steps and—

"Darathi, I forgot to tell you to arrange a press conference—...."

The voice struck like lightning. The bathroom door opened, steam spilling out behind him. Cruxius stood half-wet, towel slung over his shoulder, droplets trailing his collarbone.

His eyes scanned the room and landed instantly on Thalia, caught mid-slink, tiptoeing like a cartoon thief toward the exit.

Darathi lifted her head slowly, her gaze vacant but following his voice like instinct.

Thalia froze. Her mouth opened, then snapped shut. And then, with the brightest, fakest smile she could muster, she scratched the side of her cheek.

"Hehe... I-I was just trying to get some fresh air?" she said weakly.

The twitch in Cruxius’s jaw was small but visible. That tiny crack in his expression sent alarms blaring in her brain.

She bolted.

’RUN, THALIA!’

Her heart screamed it, her legs obeyed. She sprinted, the hem of her dress fluttering madly, bare thighs flashing with each desperate step. Her lungs pumped, adrenaline lacing her veins, not even bothering to glance back.

"Chase me, and I swear—I’ll make sure the world knows you’re just a rabid dog in heat!"