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He had hoped for help to come, but with no alarms triggered after a considerable time, it became clear: the demon had likely killed everyone before coming here.

If that was the case, then it was better to accept his fate and at least die with dignity.

There was a reason that he was able to built a business empire—he was brave and never showed weakness, even in the face of death.

He had already made peace with it.

"Monster?" Reign chuckled, his mouth twisting into a smug grin as he enjoyed the scene. "Well, thank you for the compliment," he added, mocking his prey further .

Then.

Reign turned his head towards Cyril's step-sister, who was now vomiting on the floor after witnessing the carnage surrounding her.

The metallic stench of blood, mingled with the scent of other internal organs like brain matter, intensified the smell .

"Hey, do you wanna live?" he asked, with a wicked smile .

"Please— Please, let me live," she pleaded through tears, her voice shaking with fear and remorse. "I'm sorry for bullying Sister Cyril, I promise I'll change. She can make me her slave, I don't care, just please spare me."

The stress and trauma had completely shattered her mind, leaving her in a state of inconsolable despair.

"I will let you live if you pick up that knife," Reign declared, his voice dripping with malice. "You and your father kill each other. Whoever wins, I will spare. Of course, if you don't do it, then I will kill the two of you and be done with it."

"Why should we believe you?" Cyril's father stood up, his voice filled with skepticism.

"Well, you don't really have a choice, do you?" Reign replied with a smirk. "Besides, in the off chance that I'm telling the truth, then either one of you can live. So it's either a 50/50 chance you die, or 100%. Your choice."

After hearing the logic behind Reign's words, both father and daughter paused, contemplating their options.

While death seemed inevitable either way, the alternative at least offered a slim 50% chance of survival.

Cyril's father remained skeptical; he was smart enough to see through Reign's sadistic way of playing with them.

But for her daughter?

She slowly picked up the knife with trembling hands. It was the same knife she had used to cut her steak before everything turns to hell.

Who could have imagined that the very knife once used to cut through premium, expensive beef would now become her weapon to end the life of her own father, who had showered her with love, wealth, and attention?

"I—I'm sorry, father... I want to live," she start sobbing, tears streaming down her face. Her appearance was disheveled, her expensive makeup now faded and streaked with tears, especially the eyeliner smudged around her eyes.

Seeing his daughter in such distress, he nodded at her and closed his eyes, silently accepting his fate.

STEP!

STEP!

STEP!

Her uncertain footsteps echoed on the floor as she walked closer to her father, stepping over the corpses of her dead family members.

The sight made her sick but she endured it. She didn't want to die; she was too young and hadn't experienced life yet to the fullest.

As she reached her father, he gently opened his eyes and spoke with a serene tone, "Don't blame yourself. You're only fighting to survive. I'm proud of you for being this strong." His eyes radiated a sense of peace as he embraced the inevitability of death.

His daughter began to cry even harder, but this time, it was a mixture of grief and gratitude. Even in the end, her father did not harbor any resentment toward her.

It was a dramatic moment, a testament to the love of a father for his daughter—a display of passion that most people would find deeply moving.

However—

"Hahaha!" Reign's laughter echoed manically through the room, his twisted smile breaking the moment.

"You're really an idiot, aren't you? If only you had given even a fraction of that love to Cyril, none of this would have happened. You had the means, the time, and the ability to care for her, yet you chose to ignore her and treat her like an object." His words cut through the air with blunt honesty.

It was clear that he was really pissed off right now.

He too was bastard child of his father .

While all his stepbrothers and stepsisters received the best treatment, his father didn't even know he existed, let alone care about him.

Even when he was trapped in that laboratory for years, no one came to his rescue at all.

His father and all his step-siblings continued to live their lives as princes and princesses. And even when he died, none remembered him.

Cyril's father wanted to respond, but he felt scared .

The demon in front of him now seemed to have undergone another transformation.

While before he appeared as a mere killing machine, there was something deeper in his demeanor now, something more ominous.

"Stab me in the heart. Kill me quickly," Cyril's father uttered, his voice trembling with resignation.

"I—I can't," she shook her head, her guilt evident in her pained expression.

"Do it, or I will kill both of you," Reign's cold voice echoed as sharp bones began to protrude from his knuckles. "Don't test my patience," he warned, his threat hanging heavy in the air.

Hearing this, she began to cry even harder. With trembling hands, she raised the knife and stabbed it into her father's chest.

"Arghh," her father grumbled in pain, but the knife wound was superficial.

"Don't make me suffer," he requested, his face contorted in agony.

"AHHHHH!"

With tears streaming down her face, she let out a gut-wrenching scream as she repeatedly plunged the knife into her father's chest, blood splattering onto her face with each agonizing stab.

The weight of her actions, fueled by desperation and sorrow, made each blow more harrowing than the last.

"I'M SORRY "

"I'M SORRY "

"I'M SORRY "

"I'M SORRY "

"I'M SORRY "

She kept repeating those words, her mind flooded with memories of the good times she had shared with him.

She remembered how he would take her shopping and always find time in his busy schedule to watch her play at school when she was still studying.

Despite his flaws, he had always been there for her, a reminder that while he may have been a flawed person, he was not a bad father.

"I—love you," her father's weak voice echoed as he touched her face with his bloodied hands.

With all the remaining strength he could muster, he began to speak, pausing intermittently as he coughed up blood. "Demon, I know…. that I've ….been a…. bad person to Cyril, but this child is innocent... please, spare her."

As Reign turned away without a word, Cyril's father felt a wave of relief wash over him.

In that final moment, he found peace in the knowledge that he had shielded his daughter from harm until the very end.

"Father…"