Ascension Of The Villain-Chapter 323: Catching Attention

Everything was loud. Too loud.

The music crashed against his eardrums, the beat pounding so hard it made his ribs vibrate. The air reeked of smoke, sweat, and something sweetly synthetic.

Vyan was dazed through the haze of colored lights, as if he'd been dropped into the heart of chaos.

He had expected this place to be like a red-light district and he had been to one once before, but it had been a professional visit—strictly business. He'd gone to that bar to poach Freya for a job. Even then, it hadn't been like this. This was... unhinged. People weren't just dancing—they were grinding like their lives depended on it. Couples were entangled in dark corners, mouths devouring each other in public.

Vyan wrinkled his nose. What the hell are these people even doing? Get a damn room… or a shred of dignity.

The bass kept hammering through the floor, into his chest, and up into his skull until his brain felt like it might liquefy. As he stumbled after Anna through the press of bodies, the occasional strobe light would catch his face, drawing a little too much attention.

He could feel eyes on him.

A few women winked. Another licked her lips. Even a man leaned in with a smirk, whispering, "Hey, hottie. You single?"

Absolutely not, he thought dryly, brushing past them without a word.

He knew how Iyana would react if she saw this. She would've razed the entire building by now.

He could feel her imaginary rage flaring in his mind.

She'd scalp them, he thought with an internal smirk. Every last one. Men, women, anyone who even glanced at her man—ten stabs minimum per person.

That woman was psychotically possessive.

And honestly… he liked that about her.

A sudden tug on his wrist pulled him out of his thoughts. Anna had grabbed his arm firmly, weaving him through the throng of bodies.

As Vyan looked down at her hand on him, one sardonic thought crossed his mind:

Yep. Anna would be the first person Iyana cuts down. Front of the line, first-class pass to hell.

They made it to the bar counter, finally finding a bubble of space in the overwhelming crush of bodies. Anna leaned over, calling out her drink order. Then, without asking, she added one for him as well.

"I'm not drinking," Vyan reminded.

"It's non-alcoholic, relax," she replied, waving him off with a grin.

He nodded absently. His gaze had wandered to the stage area. A dancer twisted her body around a gleaming metal pole. Her movements were slow, almost hypnotic, as if she were trying to seduce someone.

Vyan stared for a second, not out of interest, but sheer confusion.

Why… are they dancing on metal rods like it's supposed to be sensual? he thought. Is that somehow arousin—

Thirty seconds into watching the show, he understood why. As soon as he realized that, he quietly averted his eyes.

And then his eyes shifted to the side—to a couple practically taking each other on in the booth behind them, their hands clearly on each other's private parts.

Is being gross in public normal in this world? he mentally gagged.

While his thoughts remained preoccupied with silent judgment, he didn't notice the look that passed between Anna and the bartender.

When she turned back to Vyan, Anna was all smiles again, handing him a tall glass with something bubbly and citrus-colored inside.

Vyan took it without thinking. He wasn't even looking at it. He was still lost in trying to make sense of the absolute circus unfolding around him.

Anna's body swayed to the rhythm of the pulsing beat.

"Come on, dance with me!"

Vyan gave her a ridiculous flat look like she'd asked him to join a cult. "Absolutely not."

He didn't dance in public without Iyana. Never had, never would. Not to mention, all that bumping and grinding, the wild movement, the sweaty bodies pressed against one another—ugh. No thanks.

He liked his space. His personal bubble was sacred. And this crowd? This crowd was the seventh circle of claustrophobia.

Anna just laughed and shook her head, disappearing into the swarm of dancers. He watched her go, then turned his attention to the glass in his hand.

It gleamed under the neon lights, the liquid inside catching every flicker of red and blue like a warning siren.

He hadn't even taken a sip. And he didn't plan to.

He picked up another empty glass from the bar and cautiously poured his drink into it. It was a habit.

As a Grand Duke, he didn't trust untested drinks or food.

Back in his world, he wouldn't even look at food outside home without running a minor detection spell first. He'd been a noble long enough to know how easy it was to lace a drink or food with something nasty.

He didn't exactly think Anna would spike his drink or anything, but it wasn't about trust. It was about habit. And the feeling of unease he couldn't shake in places like this.

He hadn't even drunk the coke Anna had gotten him back at the pizza van. The black water itself looked weird to him, so he had pondered if it would end up hurting his stomach later or something. In the end, he didn't touch it.

Either way, instead of drinking, he chose observation.

He leaned against the counter, quietly watching the room, picking up bits of conversation as they floated past—half drunk gossip, complaints about exes, who-slept-with-who scandals, messed up political conditions, and someone sobbing in the corner about their failing business.

But what truly caught his attention was… well, the women. A lot of them. Too many.

They flirtatiously bit their lips and winked at him. One boldly slid her hand across his arm. A trio passed by giggling, clearly talking about him. One whispered something that made the others squeal.

Vyan squinted. What the hell is going on?

He was decent-looking, sure. But this level of attention? It was absurd. He wasn't used to this.

Back home, people either avoided eye contact with him or bowed their heads respectfully while cautiously calculating whether he could kill them on a whim. Which, to be fair, he could.

But here?

Here, it was like he'd stepped into an alternate universe where privacy was a myth and personal boundaries were just polite suggestions.

Are men in this world just... uglier? Is that why? Are their standards that low?

He frowned, genuinely puzzled. I know plenty of good-looking men back home. Objectively, I'm not even top-tier... right?

What he didn't realize—what he never realized—was that back home, women had been interested. A lot of them.

But they also valued their lives and knew that flirting with Iyana's man was a one-way ticket to the afterlife. That, and the fact that Vyan's expression most days resembled a bored executioner's. Even before he had revealed his true face, just his aura alone was enough to make people fear him. Not to mention, the influence that his last name held and his close relationship with the emperor. No one consciously wanted to get on his bad side.

Here though, there were no noble titles, no watchful violet eyes glinting from behind him, no layers of unspoken etiquette to stop anyone from making their move. And the people here? Oh, they were blunt.

It was getting suffocating.

With a silent curse, Vyan slipped away from the bar, pushing through the crowd and ducking through a side door that led into a narrow corridor. The thudding bass from the main room faded behind him, and for the first time since arriving, he exhaled.

The silence was a balm. The corridor was dimly lit and empty, stretching out ahead of him like a blessing. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, letting the coolness of it ground him.

Finally. Space. Quiet. Sanity.

But with the quietness came the thoughts that had been buried beneath the loud noise.

He missed home. He wanted to work at the comfort of his desk, have the desserts that were always delivered without fail every evening, have the heavenly food prepared by his kitchen staff, go on a ride with Adam, discuss about the new books he read with Althea, bicker with Clyde, chat with Aster… and most importantly, just be in Iyana's presence.

He considered just leaving the club. Slipping out the back and vanishing into the night air. But he should probably let Anna know. It wouldn't do to have her think he'd ghosted her in a club full of strangers. Not that it mattered. They didn't really know each other.

Maybe he should just leave–

Just as he was about to look for a way out, the door near him creaked open. He turned his head.

Anna stepped out, cheeks flushed from dancing, her hair slightly tousled, and a playful look in her eyes.

"Wow," she said, catching her breath, "you look like you're hiding from a serial killer."

"I might be," Vyan deadpanned.

Anna snorted and walked over, leaning against the wall beside him. "Did someone hit on you again?"

"'Again' is generous. It's been a constant parade of flirtatious stares and unsolicited compliments.."

"Well, you are kind of hot."

Vyan gave her a long-suffering look. "Don't encourage them."

She laughed.

"Anyway, thank goodness you came," he added, deciding to change the topic. Since he got caught in the middle of escaping, he might as well continue the pretense. "I was just about to go look for yo—"

Before he could finish, Anna suddenly closed the space between them and shoved him back against the wall.