Absolute Loser Becomes The Pleasure King Using Satan System

Chapter 103: 103.For Vengeance-3

Mylo held Carey’s gaze for a few seconds, taking in the hardened, impenetrable expression on the older man’s face.

Whatever happened to him, it wasn’t recent, Mylo thought, watching Carey’s jaw remain tight. He carries that same suffocating weight I felt when I was falling toward the street. He’s not doing this for money or territory. He wants blood.

Mylo took a bite of his croissant, chewing slowly to let the tension settle. "Since we’re on the same page about the hotel, there’s another detail we need to settle. Our roles when things go sideways."

Carey picked up his coffee, letting out a faint scoff. "There are no ’roles.’ You get me through the doors, you point him out, and you find a nice, sturdy table to hide under while I work."

"I’m not hiding under a table," Mylo countered, frowning slightly. "I can pull my own weight in a brawl, Carey. You saw me in that hallway."

"I saw an amateur swinging with dumb luck and sloppy adrenaline," Carey muttered, an edge of irritation creeping into his tone. "Hitting a startled bodyguard who wasn’t looking at you doesn’t make you a combatant. Out here, relying on half-assed confidence gets you zipped into a body bag."

"It wasn’t dumb luck," Mylo insisted, keeping his voice low but firm. "I know how to handle myself."

Carey set his mug down with a sharp, hollow clack. His golden eyes narrowed with visible annoyance.

"You really think you’re ready for the big leagues, kid?" Carey asked, tilting his head. He slid out of the booth, adjusting his flat cap. "Get up. Let’s see what that mouth is actually worth."

Mylo blinked, surprised by the sudden escalation, but pushed himself up from the table.

Carey walked toward the emergency exit near the restrooms, pushing the heavy metal bar open. Mylo followed him out into a narrow, enclosed service alley directly behind the restaurant. High brick walls blocked the wind, leaving only the dull hum of an industrial exhaust unit vibrating above them.

The second the door clicked shut, Carey didn’t waste a breath.

He stepped forward in a blur, snapping a sharp, straight jab aimed squarely for Mylo’s jaw.

Too fast!

Mylo’s instincts kicked into overdrive. Instead of dodging backward, his body surged forward on pure reaction. Channeling his boosted stats, his right hand shot out like an iron vise, slapping the strike aside before clamping down hard on Carey’s wrist.

Carey’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. The raw, overwhelming physical force in Mylo’s grip was unnatural—so dense it felt like being clamped by a hydraulic press.

Before Carey could pull back, Mylo stepped into the man’s guard, his left palm slamming into Carey’s chest with explosive strength, completely overpowering his balance and driving the veteran enforcer back against the brick wall.

"I told you I can—"

Mylo’s sentence died in his throat.

Despite being physically pinned and outmatched in pure raw muscle, Carey didn’t panic. In a split second, Carey hooked his heel behind Mylo’s lead ankle, twisting his entire hip into a vicious pivot.

Using Mylo’s own forward momentum against him, Carey dragged him down with terrifying fluid technique.

Thud!

Mylo hit the concrete, the breath knocked from his lungs. Before he could use his superior strength to push up, Carey’s weight shifted with master-class precision, an arm locking around Mylo’s neck and an elbow driving deep into his collarbone, pinning his upper body flush to the dirt.

"Brute force," Carey panted slightly, though the shock in his golden eyes was impossible to hide. "You’ve got absurd strength, kid. Way more than an eighteen-year-old has any right having. But on the ground? You’re an open target."

Carey released his grip and pushed himself up, dusting the gravel from his suspenders. He extended a hand down toward Mylo.

Mylo chuckled dryly, grabbing Carey’s hand and letting the older man haul him up. "Point taken. Technique beats raw muscle."

"Don’t sell yourself short," Carey murmured, rubbing his sore wrist with a low whistle. "If you’d actually landed that palm strike clean, you would’ve cracked my sternum in half. Where the hell did you get that kind of power?"

"Just... working out a lot," Mylo offered with a sheepish grin, giving the worst excuse possible.

Carey scoffed, shaking his head, though the tense, hostile atmosphere from before had completely evaporated. "Right. Working out. Sure, kid."

"We’ll need to scout the venue first," Mylo said, brushing off his jacket. "Let’s meet up tomorrow afternoon. We can check out the layout around the Elisae Hotel, locate the blind spots, and plan the entry."

"Sounds like a plan," Carey agreed, stepping toward the alley’s side exit that led out to the main road. He paused, glancing back with a faint smirk. "Try not to break any more furniture until then, agent."

"I told you to drop the agent stuff," Mylo called back with a laugh.

Carey gave a brief wave over his shoulder and vanished down the street.

Mylo exhaled a long breath, checking himself over. Turning back toward the service door, he walked through the kitchen corridor and stepped back into the dining area.

Looking toward the front glass panels, he caught sight of Brandy standing outside near the entrance, holding a broom and sweeping stray dust from the porch.

As the sunlight hit her, Mylo’s eyes unconsciously lingered.

Under the tight black uniform apron, her fitted top stretched taut, highlighting the curve of her waist and the full, heavy swell of her chest. Every time she leaned into the broom, the denim shorts hugged the rounded curve of her hips, her toned thighs flexing naturally with the movement.

A sudden, sharp warmth spiked in Mylo’s gut, making his throat go dry.

Shit... what is wrong with me?

Mylo shook his head violently, pinching his own wrist to snap his thoughts back into line. Get a grip. It’s the Sin acting up again. Stop staring at your classmates like some horny creep.

Forcing his expression into a calm, harmless smile, he pushed the front door open.

"Sweeping the street now?" Mylo asked, leaning lightly against the doorframe. "You’re taking this part-time job way too seriously, Brandy."

Brandy stopped mid-sweep, shooting him a sharp glare. "Some of us actually earn our keep instead of hanging out in dirty alleys with shady guys wearing caps, Mylo. Where’d your friend go?"

"He had some business to take care of," Mylo replied smoothly. "What about you? When does your shift wrap up?"

"In about fifteen minutes," she muttered, propping the broom against the railing. "Why? You planning on bothering me all day?"

"Actually, I have to head to campus anyway," Mylo said with a casual shrug. "Figured we could walk over together, since we’re heading to the same place."

Brandy squinted at him, inspecting his face as if looking for an ulterior motive. After a second, she clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. "Fine. But you carry my design portfolio if my hands get tired. Wait inside and don’t touch anything."

"Deal," Mylo chuckled.

She turned back into the employee locker room, and Mylo walked back to his secluded booth in the corner.

Slumping onto the leather seat, he finally felt the quiet comfort of the morning wash over him. He reached into his Storage, space subtly rippling inside his open jacket as he withdrew the book Reina had given him.

He placed it flat on the wooden table: ’I Accidentally Became the Main Villain’s Mother’s Favorite Daughter-In-Law Candidate!!!’

Looking at the ridiculous, overly long title and the dramatic cover art, Mylo couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself.

His mind drifted to Reina’s flustered, blushing face, remembering the way she had bounced on her tiptoes, completely unable to contain her passion while talking about panels and plot twists.

She looked so genuinely happy talking about this stuff, he thought, a gentle, warm smile softening his lips. If I finish this whole volume before seeing her, her reaction is going to be absurdly cute.

Leaning back against the booth, Mylo opened the first page and began to read.

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