Chapter 68: Chapter 68
"Do I?" Lucian’s cool voice echoed in the stunned silence. He leaned on his chair, and the peek of his pale sculpted chest seemed alluring.
Coupled with his intoxicating smile and unique fragrance, he resembled eye candy.
Heat rushed to Lana’s cheeks, and it took everything in her to hold back the animalistic urge and lunge at him.
’2x1=2, 2x4=8, 2x10=2...’ Lana started to chant the multiplication table of 2.
"Hm." Lana lazily replied, her black eyes betraying no lust surging under her skin.
An undercurrent surged while their eyes locked onto each other. It was electrifying and filled the atmosphere with unspoken tension.
Nixon, seeing the exchange, blinked in surprise.... Why does he feel... they are flirting... and the initiator... seems to be his best friend?
’Poor Lana... if she has truly caught the eyes of this devil... no one can save her from the claws of this wolf...’
No one knew Lucian better than he did... a wolf with high ambition and strength to rival his ambition.
’Am I overthinking, though? Well... the answer will arrive by the end of this case, I guess...’ Nixon wondered; he watched with interest as Lucian took the formation with a smirk.
’Yup... he is interested... but whether it’s romantic or just platonic... it will depend on intensity and how swiftly he will deal with Lana.’
Lucian checked the formation, and his eyes narrowed due to seriousness.
’A talented formation master indeed,’ Lucian mused, his fingers tracing the faint lines of positions.
"Good... however, there are flaws." Lucian’s cool voice was devoid of the praise bubbling in his chest. "To plant all these men at their respective positions, we need a distraction."
"We will ask Robert to distract Anthony." Lana proposed.
Lucian shook his head. "What about the ghost? Without knowing its coordinates... sending those people in will be equivalent to committing a grave mistake."
"Eh? I can see it." Lana pointed at herself. Because of the awakening of the third eye, Lana could see things invisible to the naked eye.
Even Lucian pursed his lips without speaking a single word while Nixon stood up from his chair; the roller of the ergonomic chair created a creaking sound.
"You... you have awakened your third eye too?"
Lana’s silence answered Nixon’s question, chilling the hearts of the two men.
The woman, gifted in weapon design, possesses exceptional formation-making abilities and has also awakened her third eye.
"Then... are you a priest? Or an exoray?" Nixon gulped, his voice trembling toward the end.
He desperately wished Lana would say exoray... otherwise, he would declare her a monster.
"Neither." Lana’s unhurried voice plucked the heartstrings of the two men. "I am a mystic cultivator."
Lucian’s pupil dilated while Nixon cursed under his breath.
A mystic cultivator... a fucking mystic cultivator!
That single phrase was enough to shatter the calm composure Lucian had mastered for years.
He slowly raised his gaze toward Lana, who stood unbothered, her raven-black hair falling over one shoulder.
"You’re not serious..." Nixon muttered, running a hand through his hair.
"Why would I lie?" Lana seemed puzzled.
Nixon and Lucian exchanged a glance, and for a moment, both of them fell into deep thought.
"Right... right... Have you found a sponsor by now?" Nixon probed, a glint flashing in his eyes.
"No." Before Nixon could rejoice, he heard Lana’s cheerful, melodic voice. "Not interested in having one."
Lucian’s brows twitched, his expression unreadable as his fingers drummed lightly against the table. Nixon, on the other hand, nearly choked on his own breath.
"Not interested?" he repeated, blinking rapidly as though she had just announced she preferred walking barefoot through fire. "Lana, do you even know what that means?!"
"I do," she said simply, her calm tone contrasting the tension filling the room. "It means I keep my freedom."
Lucian leaned back in his chair, studying her with intrigue.
"You’d rather walk the path of a mystic without protection? Bold."
His eyes glimmered faintly, like molten silver in the dim light. "Or foolish. Depending on how long you survive."
"I’ve survived worse," Lana countered smoothly, her black eyes unwavering. "And if fate truly wants me dead, I’d rather die standing than kneeling under a sponsor’s leash."
She knew how appealing a mystic cultivator was to a wealthy family or those in power.
Having a mystic cultivator under them meant... becoming invincible.
Mystic cultivators lack money, while the wealthy lack power... power to purify ghost zones. Once a family sponsors a mystic cultivator, their future becomes bright.
Mystic cultivators are the no-brainer investment. The returns on them can’t be just measured in numbers.
However, just as alluring a mystic cultivator is to the masses, it is at the same time a dangerous profession too.
Many high-ranking ghosts attack a mystic cultivator just for their flesh and blood.
The blood of mystic cultivators is a delicacy for ghosts. Their cultivation soars, and some even extend their lifespan. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novel※fire.net
Some of the smarter ghosts want to gain clarity and become human again, so they feast on mystic cultivators’ flesh.
It was even stated that some mystic cultivators’ blood could awaken hidden powers.
There were many rumors about mystic cultivators, and hence, their safety is always at stake.
Without a force protecting her... God knows how she will survive.
For now, she was under Shadowridge University’s protection, but what after that?
Lana never considered the possibility, purely because... she was planning to move away and cultivate secretly till she became powerful enough to deal with her enemies.
And her backup option was Lucian.
In her past life, Lucian protected her when he was close to bankruptcy. In this life, his power and influence have remained top-notch, so protecting a mystic cultivator won’t be a problem.
’Aren’t you an independent woman? Why depend on a man? And weren’t you the one who preached me about love and flaws?’ Mr. Crow questioned, confused.
’This is called being flexible.’ Lana retorted, ’When you are weak, beg to survive. When you rise to power... crush all those who once threatened you. It’s not love, Mr. Crow. It’s called being smart.’