My Harem Will Help Me Get My Revenge-Chapter 4: Saved by the Girl

Chapter - 4

The night seemed unusually quiet. Aside from the occasional hoot of an owl and the gentle ripple across the lake's water, everything seemed to be at a still.

The silver moonlight stretched over the empty road, casting long, ghostly shadows between the trees. The clouds had finally scattered, and after the rain, the air smelled fresh, carrying the damp scent of wet earth and fallen leaves.

And on that empty road, a sleek, black luxury car moved smoothly along the road. The soft hum of the engine was the only sound breaking the stillness.

Soon the car slowed down before it finally stopped on the side of the road and the engine turned off. In no time the door of the car opened and a beautiful long leg stepped out of the car followed by a woman wearing a bluish pattern dress.

The dim glow of the moonlight bathed her flawless skin in a warm hue, highlighting the sharp angles of her high cheekbones and the delicate curve of her lips.

Her long, wavy hair tumbled over her shoulders, catching the faint glow of the moon as she slowly strolled away from her car.

Every movement she made exuded elegance, from the way she sat to the way her diamond-studded earrings shimmered whenever she turned her head. She wore an expensive and beautiful flower patterned dress. Everything about her... Her style, her presence, her quiet confidence... screamed wealth and power.

Her heels clicked against the pavement as she moved, each step controlled and poised. A silk scarf, draped over her arm, fluttered slightly in the breeze. She lifted her phone, waving it in the air slightly, searching for a signal.

Still nothing.

Her brows furrowed. She took a few steps away from the car, moving toward the open space near the lake. Maybe she would get better reception there.

As she approached the lake's edge, something unusual caught her eye: a big bag of some sorts lay near the edge of the lake.

She froze. A frown appeared on her face as she squinted her eyes trying to have a better look.

Was it an animal? A pile of clothes? Or...

As she reached closer to the object, the girl was able to finally identify what it was.

It is a body. Dead body?

She took slow and cautious steps closer to the motionless body, the damp ground sinking slightly beneath her expensive shoes. The moonlight cast just enough light to reveal what it was. Seeing the motionless body, she turned on the light on her phone to have a better look to who it was.

And it was actually a man.

The man looked badly hurt. His face was covered in bruises, his body limp. Blood stained his torn clothes, fresh wounds marking his arms and chest. Looking at the man, the girl could not tell if the man was still alive or not.

With a frown on her face, the girl forced herself to stay calm.

And although she didn't want to, the girl crouched beside him, her sharp eyes scanning his battered form. She could barely see his chest move, his breathing was faint, uneven. He was barely hanging on. He looked as though he had been beaten and left for dead.

"Shit..." she muttered under her breath, her gaze darting around. There was no one else in sight. No witnesses. No clues.

Shaking her head, she reached out, her fingers moving swiftly as she checked his pockets. Nothing. No wallet, no phone, no ID. Not a single trace of who he was or why he was left here to die.

"Aghhh," The girl sighed. This wasn't some random mugging. Someone had wanted this man dead.

Her hands hovered over his bloodstained shirt for a second before she pulled her hands back and looked at them.

"What have I gotten myself into?" She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. Glancing back toward her car. She could leave him. Drive away. Pretend she never saw anything.

This chapter is updat𝓮d by freēnovelkiss.com.

'Or Maybe' She bit her lip, as she thought of something, 'I can use him as well.'

"I don't really care who you are?" she murmured, eyes narrowing. "And who the hell did this to you?"

But something inside of her told her that she might be able to use him.

"You better thank your damn stars you ran into me and not your maker." With a frustrated sigh, she muttered. Though it was too much work this guy if managed to survive might be a nice tool to have.

She moved quickly, sliding an arm under his shoulder, trying to hoist him up. He was heavy, his body limp against hers.

"I really don't want to do this," she grumbled, adjusting her grip.

But no matter how much trouble this was about to cause her, she wasn't leaving him here to die.

Not tonight.

Not on her watch.

But when she tried to pick him up, it was then that she realised why dead men skin. He wasn't even dead yet, but the man weighed like a dead bull.

The girl crouched down, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and she had to summon every ounce of her strength just to turn his body. Literally his almost dead body was like a dead weight. The man was barely conscious, as she tried to pull him away, his head would roll to the side.

And his wounds and bloodied clothes did not help make a case for him. Blood smeared against her designer dress, mixing with the dirt already staining the expensive fabric. And the girl could do nothing but curse under her breath. What could go wrong has gone wrong. She couldn't care now.

"Come on... just a little more," she muttered under her breath, forcing herself to move.

Step by step, she dragged him away from the lake, her heels sinking into the damp earth. Every pull felt like lifting a sack of bricks. The night air was cold, but sweat clung to her skin as she fought against exhaustion.

The road was just a few feet away. Her sleek, black car sat waiting under the dim glow of the moonlight. It felt so close, yet impossibly far.

If one didn't know better, it was the perfect scene of getting rid of the dead body in the wild, left for drowning. It's just that the tracks have been reversed and the girl was trying to save her target.

With trembling hands, she yanked the passenger door open, turning back to him.

"Alright... just one last push." The girl tried telling herself, "All that wasted Gym money... I will surely be paying a visit on Monday."

She bent down again, hooking her arms under his shoulders. The moment she tried to lift him, his full weight nearly pulled her down with him. She gasped, stumbling but refusing to fall. Her breath hitched as she slammed her foot against the car's frame and shoved the man inside with all her might.

"Damn it!" she hissed as his limp body flopped against the seat. But he wasn't fully inside—his legs still dangled out, "I should have just thrown him in the trunk."

Frustration surged through her stomach, but she shoved his legs aside. With a final, desperate effort, she grabbed his torn shirt and pulled him in completely, panting as she slammed the door shut.

She stood there for a moment, hands on her knees, struggling to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding like crazy, and her body trembling.

"I am surely not doing this again," The girl muttered to herself, panting, "At least not alone."

Then, without wasting another second, she rushed to the driver's seat. She slid in, slammed the door, and gripped the steering wheel. Her fingers were shaking.

She turned back one last time to steal a glance at him. His breathing was shallow, but he was still alive.

"Hold on..." she whispered, pressing her foot down on the accelerator.

The tires screeched as the car sped off into the night, heading straight for the hospital.

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At the center of the dimly lit room, The cockroach stood, leaning against the table as the smoke curled from a half-burnt cigar resting in an ashtray.

He looked at the man standing in front of him, waiting for him to speak. But the man just stood their like a statue not uttering a single word.

"So?" The Cockroach finally spoke, his voice was dangerously quiet, laced with venom. "What's the news?"

"Umm...." The man hesitated to speak.

"I asked a fucking question." Cockroach's sharp gaze almost pierced through the man like a blade. "Instead of Meh... Meh... Mehing like a fucking sheep. Speak up you imbecile."

"Or have I just surrounded myself with a bunch of pussies only good at getting a pounding?

The tension in the room thickened like a noose around the man's neck. When The Cockroach gave him the job, he strolled out of the room arrogantly, looking down on everyone else. The Cockroach chose him above the rest.

It was always a competition. Every task, Every mission, Every head they rolled meant pushing someone else from the good books of the Cockroach.

And this was already an easy job to begin with. He just needed to torture someone for some information. It couldn't get any easier.

But who would have thought that the seemingly easy job of torture would turn out to be so hard. But truth to be told, the man held back way too much this time. The target of his torture was someone close to The Cockroach. Because of that, the man had to tread carefully.

But he didn't really think much about it. After all, for how long can a girl actually resist? But he was wrong. And after three hours of silence, he was standing in front of the Cockroach with nothing.

The man hung his head in shame, His voice wavered slightly as he spoke, "I... I couldn't find anything yet, Sir..."

The room fell into dead silence and the Cockroach continued to look at the man, his emotions unreadable. His fingers tapped against the desk, slow and deliberate.

"You disappointed me," His words came out low, each syllable slow and masked with threat.

The man hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Sir, I tried my best. But my hands are tied. With Miss Voss... With Miss Voss, I dare not use..." The man didn't complete his sentence, but it was enough to convey to the Cockroach what he meant.

Hearing him, for a long moment, The Cockroach said nothing.

The Cockroach let out a deep sigh, his fingers tightened around the glass and then, without warning, he moved.

Despite his age, the Cockroach still had it in him. The man didn't even see The Cockroach swing his arm.

SMASH!

The glass in his hand smashed against the man's head with a sickening crack. And soon, shards flew, whiskey splattered, and the man in front of the Cockroach staggered back, clutching his bleeding forehead.

His knees wobbled, and eyes widened with shock.

"So do you think this is my fault?" the old man said, his voice like gravel. He took a slow step forward, towering over the man.

"But you know what, I am not some unreasonable bastard," The Cockroach took a deep drag from his cigar and said as his lips curled up in a sinister smile, "Guess I will have to just get the answers my own."

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