The journey from the fifth floor down to the ground level was a slow, incredibly careful process.
Max moved with a steady, measured pace, his heavy boots making minimal sound against the concrete steps of the stairwell. He was currently carrying Bellatrix securely in his arms, holding her in a firm princess carry. He had one strong arm tucked securely under the bend of her knees, and the other wrapped protectively around the middle of her back, pressing her warm body against his chest.
Despite his immense, superhuman stamina forged over thousand of lifetimes, he was taking the stairs one by one. He wanted to make sure he didn't jostle her too much. He knew for a fact that her core muscles and her legs were deeply sore from the intense, marathon session of hardcore intimacy they had shared throughout the previous night and into the early morning.
Bellatrix had her arms wrapped tightly around his thick neck, her face buried into the curve of his shoulder. She was wearing a cute, casual dating outfit—a light blue denim skirt paired with a soft white blouse—but her flushed face betrayed her deep embarrassment. Being carried down five flights of stairs by a heavily muscled, handsome man in broad daylight was doing terrible things to her anxiety, even if it felt incredibly nice.
As they finally reached the ground floor landing, the heavy metal door leading to the main apartment lobby was propped open.
Max stepped through the doorway, ready to head straight toward the parking garage.
However, standing right in the middle of the lobby, holding a fresh cup of morning coffee and a clipboard, was Lady Irmela.
Irmela looked up from her paperwork as she heard his heavy footsteps. She paused, the coffee cup freezing halfway to her mouth. She raised a dark, highly skeptical eyebrow. Her mismatched eyes—one warm brown, one icy blue—locked onto the strange sight before her. She was entirely confused as to why her brilliant, highly independent niece was currently being carried like a helpless bride by her mysterious new tenant.
She slowly lowered her coffee cup. She folded her arms sternly over her chest, tapping her index finger against her sleeve.
Max saw her standing there and immediately stopped walking. He froze in the middle of the lobby, his tactical brain trying to figure out an escape route that didn't involve dropping his date.
He shifted Bellatrix slightly in his arms and reached up with one hand to awkwardly scratch the back of his head. He felt a massive wave of intense embarrassment wash over him. He was a legendary hitman, the Reaper of the underworld, and yet getting caught by a landlady made him feel like a teenager sneaking out of a window.
He forced a polite, deeply nervous smile onto his face and said hello.
"Hi, Lady Irmela," Max greeted her, his voice slightly tight. "Wh—why are you still here in the lobby? I thought you usually took your morning walk around the neighborhood at this specific time?"
Irmela didn't reply to his question. She didn't even acknowledge the attempt at small talk. She simply narrowed her eyes, scanning them from head to toe.
"So," Irmela started, her voice carrying a firm, authoritative tone that echoed in the quiet lobby. "Where exactly are you bringing my niece right now? Like, why are both of you wearing nice outfits, looking suspiciously like you two are going out on a romantic date?"
Both Max and Bellatrix widened their eyes simultaneously as they heard her blunt question. The blood drained from Bellatrix's face.
Bellatrix was the first to gather her frantic courage to reply, desperately wanting to protect their secret.
"A—auntie, I can easily explain everything!" Bellatrix stammered out, peeking over Max's shoulder. "We—we are just going out to attend a local science fair near our town! Since I really wanna see what the other fellow chemists like me are presenting this year. Right, Max?!"
She practically shouted the last part as she looked up at Max, her gray eyes silently begging him to play along with the lie.
Max quickly nodded his head up and down, catching the hint immediately. He put on his best, most convincing civilian voice.
"Yeah, exactly!" Max replied smoothly, though his heart was beating a bit faster than usual. "We'll just go to a local science fair. She didn't actually join the competition this science fair, but rather, she only wants to spectate and see what the grand reward will be. And it also includes her wanting to see her fellow chemists in action. She said to me that if we are incredibly lucky today, we can both meet some of her old classmates from college, of course, assuming her classmates actually participate in the event."
Max delivered the long, highly detailed excuse nervously. As he looked down at Bellatrix, he saw that she was practically sweating bullets, her hands gripping his shirt tightly.
Irmela stood there in silence for a long, agonizing minute. She looked at Max's stiff posture, and then at her niece's flushed, panicked face.
"I see…" Irmela finally said, nodding her head slowly.
"…But the real question still stands," Irmela continued, her voice dropping into a suspicious murmur. "Why exactly are you carrying her like that? Like, you two are really giving me intense, heavy dating vibes right now. And healthy young women don't usually need to be carried to a science fair."
Bellatrix's eyes practically started spiraling in sheer panic. Her brain scrambled for a logical, scientific excuse for her lack of mobility.
"A—ahh! Well, he is just carrying me because I—I accidentally sprained my ankle this morning!" Bellatrix blurted out, pointing vaguely toward her feet. "Tha—that's all it is! There's no intimate meaning behind this at all, Auntie. I swear! And we're also in a really big hurry to catch the opening ceremony, so please excuse us!"
Bellatrix raised both of her hands in the air, hiding her face behind her palms in profound shame.
Max just let out a heavy, defeated sigh. The lie was terrible, but he had to commit to it. He adjusted his grip, securing her in a proper princess carry this time to make sure her "sprained ankle" wouldn't hit the doorframe. He looked at Irmela, waiting for her to step aside.
Irmela kept looking at both of them, her mismatched eyes piercing right through their flimsy cover story. She knew her niece. She knew when Lauren was lying.
She then just sighed, shaking her head.
"Fine. I won't ask any more detailed questions about this right now, but—!"
Irmela's tone suddenly shifted from a suspicious landlady to a deeply protective guardian.
"Lauren," Irmela said sharply, using Bellatrix's real, family name.
Bellatrix flinched slightly in his arms.
"Ye—yes, Auntie," Bellatrix replied meekly, peeking through her fingers.
"When you return from this 'science fair'," Irmela said, her expression turning dead serious, crossing her arms tighter. "You will need to sit down and explain everything to me in full detail. Including exactly what happened yesterday night. Because I clearly heard loud, very distinct moans of intense sex coming from the hallway CCTV audio feeds right outside of your apartment room."
Bellatrix widened her gray eyes to an impossible degree. Her jaw practically hit the floor.
She knew her aunt perfectly well. If her Auntie Irmela was just joking or lying to trap her, she would have said it in a light, teasing way with a smirk. But this time, her aunt's eyes and even her posture were full of strict seriousness. The building had security cameras in the halls. The walls were thin. They had been incredibly loud.
Bellatrix visibly gulped. A wave of pure, unadulterated embarrassment washed over her entire body, turning her skin bright red from her neck to her hairline. She didn't say a single word. She just rapidly tapped Max's shoulder with her hand, a frantic, silent command to hurry up and run away.
Max felt the tapping and immediately understood the assignment. He just nodded respectfully at Irmela, keeping his face entirely neutral despite the chaotic panic in his own chest.
"I—I'm very sorry for the noise, Lady Irmela, and please excuse us for now," Max said politely.
Without waiting for another word, Max turned on his heel and walked swiftly toward the heavy glass doors leading out to the private parking lot, eager to escape the suffocating tension of the lobby.
Irmela stood in the lobby, watching his broad back disappear through the doors. She took a slow sip of her coffee.
She let out a soft sigh, the strict expression melting away from her face.
"Those two kids could at least be honest with me," Irmela murmured to the empty room. "And you know, there's truly nothing wrong with doing sex. I mean, both of them are already full-grown adults, but…."
She smiled fondly, thinking about the panic in her niece's eyes.
"…Sigh. Lauren, you really got that troublesome, highly awkward personality directly from me when I was your age. But,"
She turned around, walking back toward her manager's office, feeling a deep, profound sense of peace settle in her chest.
"I am genuinely glad that you finally found someone that could really love you for whoever you are behind closed doors, and a man who can handle your true, intense personality." Irmela said quietly, a warm smile gracing her lips.
She was truly glad. She knew how hard life had been for her niece. Lauren had been completely single since birth. She was a total, hyper-focused nerd who spent all her time with beakers instead of people. She even suffered from severe, crippling nervousness towards other men who simply tried to talk to her or touch her arm.
Yet, she had finally found someone. A strong, mysterious man that could touch her, carry her, and handle her without causing her any nervousness at all. A man who clearly had deep, genuine feelings for her to put up with all of her quirks. Irmela didn't care if the man was a bit strange; as long as he protected Lauren, he had her blessing.
Meanwhile, out in the bright sunlight of the private parking lot, Max walked purposefully toward his designated parking space in the far corner.
He didn't own a simple, practical sedan.
He stopped walking. Sitting in the shadow of the concrete wall was his personal vehicle. It was a flawless, aggressively styled Chevrolet Corvette (C8) Stingray, fully equipped with the high-performance Z51 Package. The entire car was painted in a deep, glossy, midnight black color that seemed to absorb the sunlight. It looked less like a car and more like a low-flying stealth fighter jet, with its sharp aerodynamic angles, massive side air intakes, and a fierce, low stance.
Bellatrix, still resting securely in his arms, widened her gray eyes as she saw the incredible sports car sitting right in front of them. She pointed a trembling finger at the sleek hood.
"A—ahh, tha—that's your actual car, Max?!" Bellatrix asked, her voice filled with sheer disbelief. She was a scientist; she knew exactly how much a mid-engine, high-performance machine like that cost on the open market.
Max only nodded his head casually. He shifted his grip slightly, reaching into his front pocket to grab the sleek, black electronic key fob of his car.
He pressed the unlock button.
—BEEP!
—BEEP!
The sharp, electronic chirp echoed in the concrete lot. The sleek LED headlights flashed brightly, and the hidden door handles popped out mechanically.
He walked over and smoothly pulled open the heavy door of the passenger seat, which was located right beside the main driver's seat. He leaned in carefully, ensuring she didn't bump her head, and gently put Bellatrix down into the low, bucket-style leather passenger seat.
He closed the door firmly with a solid thud and walked around the front of the car.
He opened the driver's side door and slid into the low, cockpit-style seat. The interior was a masterpiece of modern engineering, wrapped in dark leather with sharp red stitching.
He settled into the seat, reached up, and scratched the back of his head, feeling slightly self-conscious under her amazed stare.
"Yeah, this is my car," Max confirmed smoothly. "Well, technically speaking, it was my specific bonus reward when I successfully killed a very big-time, highly protected target years ago when I was still an active hitman in the underworld."
"Woah…" Bellatrix breathed out, completely mesmerized by what he said. She widened her gray eyes even further, literal sparkles of pure awe appearing in them as she looked around the luxurious, high-tech interior of his car.
She ran her hands over the soft leather dashboard, feeling entirely out of her depth.
"…Seriously," Bellatrix muttered, her voice dropping into a tone of self-deprecating sadness. "I really should have chosen becoming a cool hitman instead of a boring chemist. Sigh, what am I even talking about? I am far too much of a dork to ever become a hitman, and way too dorky to even survive trying to become a basic mercenary in the underworld."
She crossed her arms over her chest and started to sulk, staring down at her sensible shoes. She felt like a mundane, boring civilian sitting next to an action movie hero.
Max noticed her sudden drop in mood. He leaned over the center console, resting his hand gently over hers to comfort her.
"A dork? Are you kidding me?" Max said softly, his amber eyes sincere. "I bet my life that you would be perfectly fit to become an incredibly terrifying, brilliant mad scientist in the underworld, y'know. You already have the C-4 in your safe to prove it. And also, so what if you are a bit of a dork?"
He squeezed her hand gently, a warm, protective smile spreading across his face.
"You are my dork, Bell." Max said, his voice deep and affectionate.
Bellatrix widened her gray eyes, her heart skipping a massive beat at his possessive, sweet words. A furious blush exploded across her cheeks, turning her face bright red.
"D—dummkopf!" (You d—dumbhead!) Bellatrix stammered out loudly, reverting to her native German out of sheer, overwhelming embarrassment.
Max let out a loud, genuine laugh. He understood exactly what she said, since he was half-German himself and was fully fluent in the language.
Bellatrix turned her head away, looking out the passenger window to hide her burning face. She murmured quietly, a tiny pout on her lips.
"T—teasing me like that is really not fair, y'know…"
Max leaned back into his driver's seat, resting his hands on the steering wheel.
"That's my fair punishment for you unexpectedly kissing me directly on the cheek earlier in the living room and calling me a tsundere," Max replied playfully. "And besides, it's entirely your own fault because you boldly called yourself a dork first. Lol."
"Hahahaha." Max laughed freely, the sound filling the small cabin of the Corvette. It felt incredibly good to just laugh.
Bellatrix couldn't take the teasing anymore. She turned back around and repeatedly punched Max's thick shoulders with her small fists.
"Stop it! Stop laughing!" she whined playfully.
Of course, Max didn't feel any actual physical pain from her weak punches. His muscles were dense and hardened from combat. Rather, he only saw this as a highly cute, typical impulse that most flustered women had. He usually only saw this specific type of physical reaction when he occasionally read romance manga or manhwa during his downtime. Seeing it happen in real life was deeply amusing.
Max laughed inwardly, enduring the light barrage of punches.
He reached forward and firmly pressed the glowing engine start button on the dashboard.
The massive, 6.2-liter naturally aspirated V8 engine sitting right behind their heads roared to life with terrifying, explosive violence.
—VROOM!
—VROOM!
The deep, guttural growl of the exhaust shook the entire concrete parking structure, vibrating right through the leather seats and into their bones. It was the sound of pure, unadulterated American muscle.
Bellatrix immediately stopped punching his shoulder. Her hands froze in mid-air. Her gray eyes darted toward the rear of the car, slightly terrified by the sheer volume of the engine.
"Yes! The beast is awake," Max said, a dark, thrilled grin spreading across his face. He loved this car.
"Alright, Bell. Let's go and enjoy our first official date." Max announced, shifting the heavy transmission into drive.
"Alright, make sure you buckle up tight, Bell." Max instructed her, reaching over to pull his own seatbelt across his chest. He then reached across the console, his arm brushing intimately against her chest, and securely clicked her heavy seatbelt into place for her.
"Ahh, why do I need to be strapped in so tightly like this?" Bellatrix asked, feeling the tension of the belt lock against her collarbone. She was used to normal, slow city driving.
Max just smiled at her. It wasn't a warm, comforting smile. It was the wicked, adrenaline-fueled smile of a man who lived his entire life in the fast lane.
"You will know very soon," Max replied simply.
He smiled wickedly, his amber eyes locking onto the open exit of the parking garage.
He pressed his heavy boot down hard onto the gas pedal.
—VROOM!
—VROOM!
The massive rear tires spun for a fraction of a second, gripping the concrete with a loud screech. He then started to drive, pulling out onto the main city street.
The moment they hit the open asphalt, Max didn't hesitate. He slammed the accelerator entirely to the floor.
The Corvette launched forward like a fired missile. The sheer, brutal G-force threw Bellatrix violently back into her leather seat, pinning her against the headrest. The world outside the windows instantly blurred into streaks of passing colors.
—VROOOOOOMMMM!!!
The roar of the V8 engine was deafening as they rapidly accelerated past the legal speed limits in a matter of seconds.
"He—hey, Max! This is way too fast!" Bellatrix yelled over the sound of the roaring engine, her hands gripping the door handle and the center console with white-knuckled terror.
Max kept his eyes locked on the road ahead, his hands relaxed but firm on the steering wheel as he flawlessly weaved through the light morning traffic.
"What? I can't hear you over the engine~!" Max yelled back playfully.
He acted completely like he couldn't hear her frantic pleas, but his hearing was perfect. He could hear every word. It was just that he actively wanted to ignore what she said and pull a terrifying, adrenaline-pumping prank on her to get her blood flowing.
"MA—MAX! STO—STOP THE CAR RIGHT NOW! I DON'T WANT TO DIE TODAY!!! I'M WAY TOO YOUNG AND BRILLIANT TO DIE IN A CAR CRASH!!!" Bellatrix screamed at the top of her lungs, shutting her gray eyes tightly as they took a sharp corner at terrifying speed.
Max let out a loud laugh, the sheer thrill of the speed washing away the dark paranoia of the serial killer.
"Don't worry! You definitely won't die today!" Max replied loudly to reassure her, his eyes shining with pure excitement. "And also, you should probably get used to this feeling right now, because this is exactly how I really drive when I want to clear my head!"
Max pushed the pedal down even further, the digital speedometer climbing higher and higher.
—VROOOOM!
"AHH, MAX! I HATE YOU SO MUCH!!! IF I DIE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE OF THIS INSANE, RECKLESS DRIVING OF YOURS, I SWEAR TO GOD I AM GONNA HAUNT YOU DOWN TO THE ENDS OF THE WORLD AS A GHOST!!!" Bellatrix shouted at him, her voice cracking with pure, unadulterated terror mixed with a strange, undeniable spike of adrenaline.
Max only laughed louder at her dramatic threat. He downshifted smoothly, the exhaust popping aggressively as they merged onto the open highway.
"Hahahahaha!"
Max's genuine laughter filled the small cabin of the sports car. For the first time in thirty thousand of lifetimes, he wasn't running toward a bloody battlefield, and he wasn't fleeing from a magical curse. He was just a man, driving a ridiculously fast car, going on a highly anticipated date with a woman who yelled at him and loved him all the same.
He gripped the steering wheel, staring down the long stretch of highway ahead, completely ready to face whatever the future held for them.