Investing in My Crippled Wife: Every Return Makes Me Stronger

Aeshvin’s mind raced as he considered all the possibilities. However, each of them led to the same dead end: the creature would tear him apart the moment he made any move. There was only one way out, but the thought of it made his stomach churn.

’Urgh... I don’t want to end up as a monster, but... this is the only way to survive.’

’N-No! In fact, this might be the best way to take rev-!’

Aeshvin’s thoughts cut off as the creature suddenly rose to its feet. Its small body slipped free from the shadows, and it began walking toward him with deliberate small steps.

"!" Aeshvin even forgot to breathe.

"I really thought you would be more impressive than this," the creature said, its voice sounding somewhat eerie. "Especially after the way you’ve been acting till now."

"..." Aeshvin opened his mouth, but no word came out.

"I guess that deep down you’re just a weak coward who hides behind other people’s bodies because you can’t stand on your own. Hah, truly pathetic."

"..." Aeshvin gritted his teeth, his nails digging into his palms. ’I’ll show you who’s pathetic soon enough, you fleaball!’

"You’re lucky I’m not the one killing you," the creature muttered as it came to a stop a meter away, its violet eyes boring into him. "But I guess a cornered rat like you will do just fine for what comes next."

’?’ Aeshvin’s brow twitched, confusion flickering through the fear and anger.

What was that supposed to mean? Did it... discover what he was trying to do?

Before he could even think about it, the creature’s form wavered, its small body dissolving into wisps of black smoke. The smoke swirled for a heartbeat, then pulled together into a new shape.

A tall figure now stood where the creature had been.

"I-It’s you..."

Aeshvin’s blood ran cold and his body locked up. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to fight, to do anything, but he couldn’t move.

"..." Soren stood in front of him, looking exactly as he had earlier, but now his knuckles were stained with blackish blood. It was Raven and Orvane’s, to be more exact. The proof of their defeat was still fresh, dripping onto the cave floor.

The dim light of the cave cast long shadows over Soren’s frame, deepening the hollows of his face and sharpening the edges of his silhouette. He looked nothing like the innocent-looking chef from before. He looked more like something born from the dark itself, something that had crawled out from the deepest shadows.

And right now, that something was staring down at him without a shred of warmth in his eyes.

"I told you I would find you," Soren muttered. "That I would make you regret everything you said."

"Get a-rhh!" Aeshvin tried to scramble back, his hands scraping against the stone, but Soren’s hand shot out and closed around his throat. He was lifted off the ground before he could even think to scream, his feet dangling as the grip tightened.

Soren watched him struggle, his expression unchanged.

"And I always keep my word."

"Sevihan."

Soren muttered Aeshvin’s real name and slammed him to the ground.

The impact knocked the air from Sevihan’s lungs, and a spray of blood burst from his mouth as his body bounced against the stone. Before he could even gasp, Soren was on him again, his fist crashing into his face.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

And again.

Each hit landed with the same rhythm, snapping Sevihan’s head from side to side. His face split open in new places with each hit, blood pooling beneath him. His arms twitched, trying to rise, but there was no strength left to stop what was coming.

Thwack-!

Thwack-!

...

"Huff..." Soren paused after some time, clarity returning to his eyes. But as he stared at Sevihan’s disfigured face, he recalled everything he had done, everything he had heard from Ethea about his evil deeds, and the scene he’d seen with Malakor’s help... the image of countless lifeless people, the terrified victims, the lives he had stolen and twisted for his own amusement.

His grip on Sevihan tightened even further, his gaze hardening into pure ice.

"No... We’re not done yet."

Sevihan wasn’t just an enemy.

He was a plague that had festered in the shadows, feeding on the weak and leaving ruin wherever he went. He... He was a parasite that had to be wiped out before it could spread any further.

He had actually considered handing him over to the Empire before. Letting the authorities deal with him, letting the courts decide his fate. But now, that thought felt laughable. This man was too dangerous to leave alive, too slippery to be held by chains or cells. If given even the smallest opening, he would slip away and start again, and more innocent people would pay the price.

’If the Empire couldn’t put an end to you...’ Soren’s jaw tightened. ’Then I will.’

Still, he couldn’t let his guard down. Because Sevihan was still hiding something. The way his eyes kept flickering, the way his fingers twitched even now... he was waiting. Waiting for the right moment to use whatever trump card he had left.

’And it’s definitely related to his ability...’

Honestly, Soren wasn’t afraid at all. In fact, he wanted him to use the trump card. That way, he could crush whatever hope Sevihan had left and make him truly understand there was no escape.

It sounded twisted even to Soren himself, but a part of him wanted Sevihan to taste the same despair he had fed so many others.

The monster had spent years playing with people’s lives, using them, breaking them, discarding them like broken toys.

’Yeah... This is the least I can do for all the victims who never got justice.’

Having made his decision, Soren took out a high-grade healing potion and forced it down Sevihan’s throat. He then watched as the wounds slowly began to close.

"..." Sevihan stared at him, his eyes filled with confusion and simmering hatred. His breaths came slowly and raggedly, but life was returning to his broken body.

"We both know it’s not over yet." Soren met his gaze evenly. "So stop wasting time and show me what you’ve got."

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