The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 1080



Chapter 1080

Chapter 1080: “Dear Boss”[Finale] [3]

“Manager, I understand what you’re saying. However, was it not you who said not to accept people with too much pizzazz?”

“Always hanging onto discardable advice. Tis the reason why you never move up the ranks. You’re excused, I’ll handle the man myself.”

Cruse had his arms firmly around the two ladies. Both giggled, enchanted by the gallant man, “-my, you sure are princely, aren’t you?” one of the lasses covered her lips playfully.

“To be called a prince by ladies of equal beauty, my, I sure feel like a prince,” he laughed and gave both equal attention.

“Where do you come from?” asked the other.

“Somewhere far away,” he looked at the first, “-from Count Donte’s fairy tale.”

“OH MY GOD!” she pressed his legs and dropped her jaw, “-are you familiar with Count Donte’s work?”

.....

“I might not look it,” he nodded at her collarbone, “-but I have quite a wide field of vision. My lady, I’m guilty of being entrapped by your charms. I perhaps, with the purest of intentions, have seen your tattoo.”

She pressed her hand against her chest, her expression meant more than casual banter, “-perhaps you’d like to see the full extent of my canvas?”

“Not fair, sister,” the other pressed against his arms, “-you always bait them with your cleavage. Let me have my fun too,” she adorably pouted.

“Dania,” added the other, “-do not speak so of your older sister,” they laughed heartily.

“Ahem,” the manager waited before the trio awkwardly. Cruse ignored his advance for a few seconds, instead focusing on the ladies who gave their utmost attention, “-Pardon me, sir.”

“You’re nothing short of your friend,” he winked.

“How did you know?” they leaned into him in awe, “-I’m certain we look like sisters.”

“Yes, you look like sisters,” he slowed his cadence, “-to the general public. You see,” he grabbed their hands, “-I’m not part of the general public. I see more than people like to share,” a cheeky bit of the lips had them intrigued with a hint of harmless danger.

“Sir?”

Cruse eventually broke the conversation and watched the manager, “-have I done something to offend?”

“No, no,” the manager locked his hands below the waist, the shoulder mildly slumped forward, the regard, despite looking down at Cruse, didn’t seem to bother the latter. He firmed his grip and eased, “-excuse me, ladies,” he stood, “-I must get going.”

“Wait!” they pulled his jacket, “-may we see you again?”

He returned their invite with a ravenous stare himself, “-if the manager allows me a room. One preferably large for the accommodation of you lovely ladies,” he turned at the fellow.

‘Strong-minded and confident,’ the manager exhaled, ‘-he’s a tough customer. The disrespect is warranted. Do I apologize or wait out the anger?’

“Timothe.”

“Excuse me?” the manager flashed; “-do you know my name?”

“It’s written over there,” he pointed, “-an employee of the month. Quite the amazing feat. I do say, the picture doesn’t make your charm justice. Water under the bridge, Manager. Shall we start anew and bury the past?”

“I’m confused, are you not going to reprimand us for our conduct?”

“No, no,” he extended his hands at the ladies, “-who in their right mind can stay angry when surrounded by beautiful flowers? I must say, the hotel has amazing guests.”

‘He’s not angry?’ the strained expression eased, “-let us find you a room, my dear sir.”

“Please lead the way.”

Room 100, located on the highest floor and counted as one of the more expensive lodgments. The ease with which he paid garnered the lass’ attention. Manager Timothe’s impression of Cruse improved considerably. And so, he entered the massive room – the tall ceiling split into halves; a room within a room. It looked more like an apartment than a typical hotel room. A bar, lounge, relaxing station, and a king-size bed in one of the formidable rooms.

“I’m here,” he dropped onto the couch and toggled the television over the fireplace, a holographic display that added charm and mild heat. He played with the DB letter, ‘-how do I kill Thaos. They’ve talked about a special ceremony... I’m sure it’s a banquet in his honor. Men like him love their orgies... the ladies were dressed lavishly but don’t have the level of arrogance I’ve come to know from noble ladies. They’re easier, friendlier, and hands-on. In fairness, I know plenty of people who are touchy... they don’t match even if they’re trying to blend. Are they workers of the night?’ he glanced at his watch, ‘-three, two, one,’ *DING, DING,* ‘-right on cue,’ he took off the suit jacket, unbuttoned his shirt halfway, and headed for the bar. There, he poured some wine and sipped. *Ding, ding,* the bell rang hastily. He ambled forward, the lock clicked two the ladies of before, “-lovely surprise,” he leaned off the door frame and smiled, “-you ladies sure are ready,” he turned his shoulder, they glanced at each other and entered with a sense of victory. He peaked, saw none, then locked the doors.

“Ladies, the night is on me. Order what thee wish from room service,” the rain-swept winds crashed, any harder and the windows ought to shatter. They watched in awe as they entered. High heels clopped. The expensive dresses and accessories added to their overall beauty. One bore a short but present red dress with emphasis on her bust. Her hair parted and curled; purple-colored locks contoured her face. A deeper colored purple jewel lined her neck. Her skin, smooth and pretty, ‘-I might be wrong,’ he sipped from over the bar counter, ‘-maybe they’re girls of the nobility. Observations can be strange.” The other wore a longer, curvier dress of white and blue. Her tanned complexion added finely to the outfit’s color balance. Her eyes were almond-shaped, the same as the other, thus the sister-like resemblance. Hers were green, a beautiful green of the likes of gems, or a vibrant field. Her slender frame pushed emphasis on her long legs as opposed to her friend. She flapped her eyelashes and radiated charm. As a pair, they were knockouts. ‘They must be models,’ he casually leaned over the counter and sipped.

“The presidential suite,” said the one in the red dress.

“My, I thought it was reserved for only the rich and famous?”

“You got the latter part correct,” said Cruse, “-it is reserved for the rich and famous. I’m far from rich thought,” he said jestfully, “-daddy’s money as my friends like to tease.”

The girls lowered their bags and came to the counter, “-mind fixing us a drink?”

“A drink?” he glanced, ‘-never made cocktails before,’ a double tap summoned an interface over his vision, ‘-SSY, full mastery over the bartending profession,’ the pool of information downloaded.

“Make us anything.”

“You girls testing me?” he rolled his sleeves, “-get ready to be amazed,” he worked the counter as if a man who’d been there for decades. Drinks came one after the other – the showmanship stunned them into submission. Six drinks suddenly lined the tables, “-I made a selection,” he winked, “-choose which ones you’d like.”

Confused laughter, “-I thought you were just a rich kid. You have some skills there, man.”

“Hey, my family’s rich, I work for my money.”

“Are you a bartender?” inquired the one in blue.

“Have the drinks, please,” he pushed the glasses, “-my name’s Cruse by the way. We forgot introductions.”

“Dania Elmster,” said the one in red.

“Sunta Haol,” added the other in blue.

“I’m honored,” he fixed himself a drink.

“About what?” they sipped, the taste instantly pulled them from their seats, and their face widened, an explosion of deliciousness – the alcohol came as a soft tasteless aftertaste, more of a sensation, “-this is very good,” they agreed, “-and sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off, Cruse.”

“No harm done, Dania.”

“What were you saying?”

“Nothing much.”

“Don’t tease us like that,” Sunta bit her lips.

“I said I was honored.”

“Why?”

“To be drinking with models,” he sipped.

“Models?” she paused, he broke the awkward silence, “-yeah, you girls model for the gym, right?”

“Gyms?” they laughed, “-no, of course, we’re not models,” the laughter ensued. Conversation went from seconds to minutes, and eventually, an hour passed. The delicious cocktails waved on them 40 minutes ago, he kept on serving until they had no secret to share.

“Dania, why are you here exactly?”

“For the mayor’s celebrations,” her speech slowed, “-he’s the one who asked for us to come.”

“Tell me more.”

“Dania and I are noble girls from impoverished families. My father and his father are close friends, we fell into financial debt when the global market crashed. We kept up the fa?ade from our mother’s wealthy families, they eventually stopped and we found ourselves working to feed our own mouths.”

“We had two choices,” Dania voiced, “-either get married or work. We choose work,” they smiled, “-and were sent here by our parents to make connections. We look like models because we are, objects for the world’s viewing pleasure. ”

“How old are you two?”

“Rude to ask a lady’s age,” they chuckled, “-we’re both eighteen. Don’t ask me how Dania got such a figure... men die to talk with her, it’s infuriating but fun. The drama is interesting.”

“Oh, shut it,” Dania wrapped her arms around Sunta, “-talking like people don’t find you attractive. They shy away since you’re so pretty, Sunta. I envy your charm,” she pressed her chin, “-we’re best friends, no one can break our bonds,” and noticed the time, “-oh my god,” *hic,* “-WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE!”

” Late for what?”

“The soiree?”

“When does it start?”

“21:00”

“It’s 20:00,” Cruse narrowed.

“We’re supposed to meet with our benefactors... Cruse, it’s been nice chatting,” her hurried state landed on Sunta, the lass was out. Cheeks on the counter and consciousness in a constant twist. “-Shit...”

“God, why do you girls drink so much,” he went around the counter, “-don’t worry, I got it,” two potion flashes popped, “-drink this,” they gulped, the sluggish movements and speech straightened. Sunta sat upright. Dania looked perplexed. Cruse held their hands, “-thank you for the time, ladies.”

“Wait, what happened?”

“You girls got drunk,” he smiled, “-look at the counter,” their gluttony was laid for their guilty viewing, “-did we do anything?” Dania wondered with a hint of salaciousness. Sunta added her ear, they both were in their own way, yearning.

“I have a policy not to take advantage of inebriated people.”

“Oh...” they added with mild disappointment.

“By the way how you speak, tell me, are you both experienced?”

Warm cheeks and blushing stares, “-y-y-y-yes... we a-a-are,” Dania gulped.

“The riskier one is often the more sensitive. Poor Dania,” he laughed, “-you get embarrassed quickly, don’t you. Look, you’re blushing so hard right now. I make a point of not taking advantage,” he leaned and whispered, “-however, when it’s consensual, who knows, I might just take you to another world,” he casually walked around the counter, “-the world out there is rough. You will be taken advantage of; the freedom of consent is given to only the rich and powerful. You start tonight as debutants. Like many others, you’re being sold to a rich person for their pleasures. Take my words with a grain of salt, I’m only a stranger after all. Throw what they want before they steal it,” he paused, the words slowly infiltrating their complex wave of emotions, “-I appreciate both of you, Dania and Sunta, you’re the first people I made drinks for from a place of affection. It’s a good feeling. The stories were amusing, and honestly, the sad parts were awful. It’s hard, you know,” he watched them sincerely, “-to be someone in this day and age,” he glanced at the watch, “-ten-minutes past.”

Dania stood; “-do you have a shower?”

“Yeah, it’s on the upper floor.”

.....

“I’m still a little tipsy, can you help?”

‘Little tipsy?’ he internally laughed, ‘-the portion treats everything, my dear Dania.’

“Oh my god, you have a grand piano...”

“Please, be my guest,” he helped Dania onto the upper floor, a distant melody played.

“What you said,” she stopped well away from Sunta’s attention, “-it makes sense, she turned with a definite look. Before he replied, she’d leaped into his arms and pressed her lips, “-show me the other world,” she moaned.


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