Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent-Chapter 199: Ch : The Pick-Pocketing- Part 2

Racheal stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide as she looked up at the man who now stood before her.

His beauty was almost unnatural—sharp features and sharper gaze. There was something about this man that made her feel uneasy and secure at the same time.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her throat was dry. Her limbs refused to move.

The man—Kyle—tilted his head slightly, unfazed by her silence.

"Hand over your brother. He committed a crime against me. I'm here to see that he faces the consequences."

He said, voice calm but firm.

Racheal blinked, and something in her snapped. The haze lifted, and her breath came back in a single, sharp inhale.

"I don't have a brother. I have no idea what you're talking about."

She said, lifting her chin.

Kyle's expression didn't shift, but the air around him thickened.

"It's cute. But futile. The residual mana trail led me here, and I know he's inside. You're protecting him."

He said mildly.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Then you should know that if you step inside uninvited, I'll be forced to protect myself—and this home. And that won't end well for the noble standing on my doorstep."

There was a quiet strength behind her words, the kind born not of arrogance, but of experience. Her posture was unshaken.

Kyle could see it in her eyes—she wasn't bluffing.

Kyle's gaze flicked past her shoulder for a moment, observing the intricate network of ruins etched into the walls and floor of the modest home.

Strong. Complex. Cleverly woven to keep both intruders and detection spells at bay.

Most nobles wouldn't even recognize half the structures in place.

But Kyle wasn't most nobles.

"I admire your resolve."

He said as he stepped forward, one boot passing the threshold of her door. The house trembled for a second—reacting to his mana presence like a struck bell—but no alarm sounded. Not yet.

"You have strong ruins here. I imagine you crafted them yourself."

Racheal's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't answer.

"They're good. But they're designed to keep out average threats. Not me."

Kyle continued, stepping in fully.

The moment his other foot touched the inside floor, the ruins lit up—glowing red in warning. Defensive mana surged through the house like a pulse, preparing to eject the intruder.

Racheal slammed her palm to a rune plate beside the door, activating the trap.

Mana erupted in a flash of silver lightning, rushing toward Kyle like a spear.

He didn't flinch. A flick of his wrist, and Queen's body slithered between them, absorbing the attack in an instant with a low, vibrating hum. The lightning dispersed like harmless light.

Kyle's voice was still composed.

"I'm not here to hurt you."

Racheal's expression twisted in disbelief.

"You broke into my home. You're threatening my family. That feels like harm."

Kyle's eyes softened slightly, but only slightly.

"I'm here because your brother tried to steal from me. He may have talent, but if left unchecked, that talent will destroy him. I intend to correct that course."

She didn't move.

"So you're what? A noble savior now?"

"No. I'm a man preparing for a war far bigger than petty crimes and street thefts. I don't have time for liars, nor do I wish to harm people who don't need to be harmed. But your brother interfered with something important to me. And I can't ignore that."

Kyle said, his voice lower now.

The mana in the air crackled—tension held in delicate balance between two powerful wills.

Racheal's hand hovered near a hidden ruin trigger beneath her sleeve.

"Then you'd better be prepared to go through me."

Kyle's expression remained unreadable.

"If that's what it takes."

And with that, the glow from the ruins around them began to shift again, responding to the pressure between two mages.

Racheal gritted her teeth as her fingers flew across a hidden ruin panel behind her back.

The walls pulsed with light as a complex seal activated beneath Kyle's feet.

The moment he stepped forward, the floor exploded in blinding silver light—chains of mana sprung from the etched ruins, wrapping around his legs, wrists, and chest in a flash.

"Leave. You are not welcome here!"

She commanded, sweat already forming on her brow.

Kyle didn't react immediately. His gaze dropped to the glowing chains. A flicker of surprise passed his face.

"A containment-type trap. Clever."

Racheal poured more mana into the ruins, veins glowing faintly blue as she fed her energy directly into the seal. The mana chains tightened with a hiss. The walls trembled.

"I said leave!"

She snapped, a wild flame of desperation rising in her voice.

For a brief moment, the house echoed with silence.

Then—crack. One chain shattered. Then another.

The mana resistance vanished like a breath in the wind as Kyle stepped forward, shrugging off the last binds like they were strands of thread.

Racheal staggered back, her hand trembling.

"That's… not possible…"

Kyle dusted off his sleeve.

"Your ruins are impressive. Precise. Smartly arranged."

He looked at her then, no arrogance in his tone—only a quiet certainty.

"But they're not strong enough."

Racheal backed against the wall, biting her lip. Her breath came in quick pants now.

Her mana reserves were dangerously low. She had poured everything into that last defense, and it had crumbled like paper in front of him.

Kyle stepped forward, slow and unthreatening.

"You fought well, but you were never my opponent to begin with."

Racheal's knees gave out. She slumped to the floor, chest heaving as she glared up at him with a mix of helplessness and fury.

As Kyle walked past her toward the hallway, her arm shot out and grabbed his leg.

He paused.

"Please. Do whatever you want to me. Hurt me. Kill me. I don't care. Just… leave my brother alone."

She whispered, voice cracking.

Kyle looked down at her.

The desperation in her voice was raw, unfiltered—enough to give even him pause. Her hand trembled on his boot as if holding onto him was her last chance to save what little she had left.

"He's all I have. I won't let anyone take him. Not even someone like you."

She said.

Kyle's eyes narrowed slightly. Not in anger—something else flickered there. Curiosity.

He crouched down, lowering himself to her eye level.

"You're willing to throw yourself away to protect him?"

Her lips trembled, but she nodded without hesitation.

"Then, tell me—what are you willing to give up in return for that wish?"

Kyle said, voice quiet.

Racheal's eyes widened at the question. Kyle's expression was unreadable. Not cruel, not mocking—genuinely intrigued.

"I'm not in the habit of granting kindness freely. But I'm a man of trade. You want me to spare him? Then offer me something in return."

Kyle continued. He tilted his head.

What's your price, Racheal?"

Racheal stared at him, heart pounding.

Her pride, her defiance—everything was unraveling under the weight of his presence.

She clenched her jaw.

"I'll do anything,"

She said at last, voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll work for you. Fight for you. Build whatever you need with my ruins. Just… let him go."

Kyle watched her, silent for a long moment. Then he stood, dusting off his gloves.

"Anything, huh?"

He walked past her toward the sealed room.

"We'll see if your loyalty holds when it matters. For now… I'll consider your offer. But I'll still speak to your brother."