Cursed Heir System: Revenge Against the Gods-Chapter 46. Jealous duo

A group of four thuggish-looking men stood there, all wearing lazy grins and half-drunk confidence. One of them gave a low whistle, eyeing Anna and Moriko like trophies.

"Pretty noble things like you shouldn’t be left unattended," one said.

"Your boyfriend might’ve found someone better," another snickered.

Anna’s gaze turned cold. Her fingers curled just slightly around her mask.

But Moriko grinned.

"Oh? You’re trying to hit on us?" the cat-girl mocked. "You boys sure you’re worth hitting on us?"

"Of course they’re not even worth flirting with girls like you," a voice came from behind that made both Anna and Moriko freeze as they recognized that voice.

They turned simultaneously to see a guy standing behind the group wearing a fox-shaped mask, cloak fluttering faintly in the breeze.

One of the thugs frowned, annoyed. "Who the hell are you?"

Alan casually lifted his hand and removed the mask with one motion, revealing his familiar grey hair and sharp blue eyes with a lazy smirk on his lips.

"Just the guy they were waiting for," he said casually as a matter of fact.

But the thugs burst into laughter hearing his words. One of them stepped forward, clearly the boldest.

"This guy? You’re saying you’re her boyfriend?" He glanced toward Anna and whistled mockingly. "How’d a little shortstack like you bag a pretty noble like her?"

Before Alan could respond, the thug reached out and grabbed a handful of his grey hair, tugging him forward.

"Seriously, what’s your secret—"

Alan didn’t resist or react; he simply stared directly into the man’s eyes calmly.

And whatever the thug saw in those eyes—it wasn’t fear, and it wasn’t bravado. But it was something empty, something cold.

The thug’s breath caught in his throat as he realized that they’re in trouble.

Alan tilted his head slightly with the same smirk. "Want me to demonstrate?" he asked with a chilling, gentle tone.

The thug let go of his hair immediately and took a step back, breaking eye contact.

"L-Let’s go," he muttered.

The others blinked. "What?"

"Dude, he’s just some skinny punk—"

"I said let’s go!" he barked.

And though confused, the other three followed the guy, glancing back uneasily at Alan as they disappeared into the crowd.

Alan sighed and adjusted his cloak. "...Why does everyone have a problem with my height?" he muttered under his breath.

Well, to be fair, he was shorter than the average knight because malnutrition from the mines had stunted his growth, and no amount of combat skill could change that. But right now, he doesn’t care about that as long as he can fight.

He turned to the two girls and gave them a crooked smile. "Sorry for being late, ladies."

Anna crossed her arms, unimpressed. "You’re eternally late, Alan. Where did you vanish to this time?"

He scratched the back of his head. "Uh... Dual Nature called me?"

Anna frowned. "That’s not even a real—"

But before she could finish, Moriko had already stepped forward with narrowed gold eyes. She circled him once... then leaned in and sniffed him very closely, her feline nose twitching.

Anna’s face tightened with a flash of irritation as Moriko invaded Alan’s space.

The beastkin sniffed once more, then stepped back slowly, her eyes narrowing even further.

"...Then why," she said slowly, "do you reek of girl?"

Anna’s hand tightened around the fancy feathered mask she was holding until it cracked as Moriko said that. She forced a polite smile, but her crimson eyes clearly showed she was annoyed.

"Moriko," she said calmly, "are you sure your nose is telling the truth?"

Moriko leaned back with a smug grin as her tail flicked. "My nose doesn’t lie, noble lady," she said, proudly tapping her nose. "Beastkin senses are never wrong."

Anna quickly looked at Alan with her fake smile fading into a sharp stare. "Care to explain, Alan?" she asked with a short and serious tone, like a storm was coming.

Alan blinked, genuinely confused why she was suddenly angry. But he couldn’t tell her the real reason that there’s an unblessed cult under their feet or about the sexy assassin who once tried to kill Anna was on his side now.

He quickly searched for an excuse. "Uh, probably just the crowd," he said with a shrug, trying to sound normal. "I tripped into a perfume stall. Got hugged by six grandmothers. It was traumatic."

Moriko’s ears twitched. Her eyes narrowed slightly with curiosity, and maybe a little possessive. "Nope, that’s not perfume," she said playfully. "It’s sweat and a strong scent, like someone was all over you."

Alan’s jaw tightened. He gave her a tired look.

"Can you just not right now, Kitty?" he muttered, rubbing his temples.

Moriko didn’t back off. Her gaze lingered on him, a slight frown forming between her brows. "Who was she?" she asked, quieter now but no less insistent. "You vanished during the festival, and now you come back smelling like her?"

Anna finally lost her calm, and her voice got louder, though she tried to stay in control. "What are you up to, Alan?" she asked. "Were you really off with some girl? Tell me the truth."

Alan opened his mouth to answer, but Anna noticed his eyes went wide.

He saw someone in the crowd behind Anna. A man, dressed to blend in, was suddenly running toward her with a knife in his hand. He was already close, heading straight for her back.

Anna followed Alan’s gaze and froze. She was too shocked to move.

Alan didn’t think much; he jumped forward and grabbed Anna, pulling her close to him, and wrapped his body around her, using his own body to block the attack.

Anna gasped and closed her eyes instinctively. Her face was pressed to his chest, and she could feel his heart racing.

Everything else faded away—the sounds of the festival, the crowd.

But the pain Alan braced for never came. He turned his head slowly, expecting to see a blade buried in his back.

Instead, he saw a tanned hand holding the blade tightly with a bare hand, and blood dripped from her palm.

It was Janine. She stood firm, and her violet eyes burned with cold fury; her usual smirk was gone. Her face was calm, focused—and deadly.

The attacker stopped. His knife was stuck in Janine’s bloody grip. He paled as he looked into her violet eyes.