Chapter 97: It's Him

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A few stiff and muffled shaking breaths vented out in the distance as numbered of astonished bright eyes quickly scrutinized through the entrance arch of the wide ballroom, seeing two dazzling figures nestling between the majestic works of Hanzo's five-foot flower pots by the corner.

The crowd's earlier shallow breaths as well as their boisterous conversations had now ceased, no longer bearing the deafening silence to mind that continuously rings in their ears.

They could deem the remains of the essence souls of their forthright ancestors wavering.

Even the marbled human-sized pots looked the littlest they have seen next in sight of such a tall . . . and endearing man.

A well-off mogul drank from the old wine in his glass, tasting the spice and burning taste in his throat as his vigilant cobalt blue eyes looked calmly at the newly arrived pair, overlooking the familiarity of the faces he was seeing.

And just like everyone else, he felt an unusual stimulating chill through his spine.

With his eyes bulging, his weakened fingers almost dropped his glass as he inhaled through the thick poisonous aura in the air. His nostrils twitch in pain.

It's bloodlust. Thick, raw, and redder than the devil's dome.

His deep blue eyes met his peers, and their eyes were filled with the same gleaming attraction as his. A furtive grin emerges from their lips despite the backs of their heads prickling by the drastic and suppressing unseen shadows of the ruined.

It's him . . .

Admiring eyes persist to consume every little segment of Hiro's tall stature and exquisite existence without a wink and a breath amiss. From the few strands of his hair that were dangling softly above his straight brows to his devilish resting face, he was utterly divine and sinful at the same time.

His broad shoulders are vast and firmer than his uncles.

Oh, the men could never have whined unfairness until now.

His bottomless set of dark unreadable eyes . . . Mysterious and attentive, as if they could look through your very soul and swallow it easily whole.

Either the celestial or demonized beings must have favored him deeply to own such valued existence.

"H-Hiro . . ." Jin shivered and slightly lowered his head, his voice coming out as a low and frail whisper.

Taking the hint, Hiro frowned at the coldness of the room and held Jin closer to him, leveling their heads.

His warmed eyes buried down at the shaking fellow against him and seeing his quivering moist lips had unconsciously struck his heart dead.

The corners of Hiro's lips quavered stiffly as he felt the severe warmth lashing at the back of his neck. It had turned redder than the roses by the vicinity terrace.

His brows gradually met, keeping his self-control but unconsciously amplifying the grim atmosphere around him.

"Shu."

His word echoed and resonated around the room. People felt another electrifying charge surging and stirring unexplainably inside their bodies as his incredibly low voice rang and vibrated through their ears.

It has been what? . . .

It has been roughly around six years ever since they last saw the dark prince's appearance on the television broadcast of his awarding. They didn't want to miss the chance knowing its traces will be permanently deleted afterward.

Good devil . . . what had happened to that young lad six years ago?

He's no princely anymore. Studying him up close, he's rather be called an heir overruled by his tyranny and overworked training.

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