Gon's Harem System
Chapter 186: A strange promise

Chapter 186: A strange promise

Without his blade, he’d have to rely on his shadow step, that quick, elusive dodge he’d come to rely on so much.

If it came to it, he could evade, buy time.

He shifted his weight, planting his feet, ready to move.

But then the boy spoke, and his voice stopped Gon cold.

It was strange, flat, mechanical, like words rehearsed a hundred times or pulled from some prewritten script. "I’m not here to fight," he said, his tone devoid of warmth, his gaze unblinking.

Gon frowned, tension coiling tighter in his chest. "Then what do you want?" he asked, voice steady despite the unease prickling his spine.

The boy tilted his head, just slightly, as if reciting from memory. "I want to talk to you about Dina."

The name hit Gon like a slap, jarring him out of his wary stance.

Dina? How did this stranger know her? Why was she even part of this? His mind scrambled to make sense of it, but the boy pressed on, relentless. "You betrayed her in the tournament. She trusted you, with her heart, her body, and you betrayed her."

Confusion flared into irritation.

Gon straightened, his jaw tightening. "Betrayed her? I never betrayed her. We fought in a match, one of us had to win. I did. That’s it."

His voice carried a hard edge, defensive but honest.

The tournament had been brutal, yes, and Dina had been fierce, but it was a contest, not a betrayal.

And her body? He paused, eyes narrowing. "How the hell do you even know about that?"

The boy’s expression didn’t shift, his voice still eerily robotic. "I know. I watch everything. Even now, I know you just had two women in your room at different times."

Gon’s blood ran cold, a chill creeping up his neck.

Two women? He meant Lena and Zara, but how could he possibly—?

The boy continued, unfazed. "Do they know the kind of person you are before giving you their bodies? Did they know you planned to have them both on the same night?"

"That’s enough," Gon snapped, stepping forward, his fists clenching. "You’re creepy as hell. Back off."

But the boy didn’t retreat.

Instead, he reached for his sword, the blade sliding free with a soft, metallic rasp.

It gleamed in the torchlight, polished to a deadly sheen, and Gon tensed, his body poised to dodge. "I love Dina," the boy said, his voice finally cracking with something human, anger, pain. "You broke her heart. So I’ll avenge her."

He leveled the sword, not striking, just pointing it at Gon’s chest, a silent promise. "Watch your back. Always. Protect yourself every moment you can. It won’t matter. Sooner or later, I’ll make you pay."

Gon stood frozen, dumbfounded, as the boy sheathed his sword with a precise, practiced motion and turned away.

His footsteps echoed down the corridor, steady and unhurried, until he vanished around a corner, leaving Gon alone in the flickering light.

The weight of the encounter settled over him like a shroud, heavy and suffocating.

His earlier elation was gone, replaced by a gnawing unease.

Who was this boy? How did he know so much, too much, about his life? And Dina, had she sent him? No, that didn’t fit; she’d been proud, fierce, not the type to nurse a grudge through someone else.

But the boy’s words lingered, sharp as the blade he’d drawn, cutting into Gon’s confidence.

He shook himself, forcing his legs to move, and continued toward his room.

The corridor felt narrower now, the shadows deeper, every creak of the palace amplifying his wariness.

He’d been careless tonight, and it had cost him, left him exposed, weaponless, blindsided.

That wouldn’t happen again.

He’d retrieve his sword the moment he reached his room, strap it to his side, and keep it there.

The boy’s threat echoed in his mind, "sooner or later", and Gon clenched his jaw, resolve hardening.

Let him try.

Gon wasn’t invincible, but he wasn’t prey either.

If this stranger wanted a fight, he’d get one, but it’d be on Gon’s terms, not some rehearsed vendetta.

For now, he’d watch his back, just as the boy warned, and figure out who, or what, he was dealing with.

The night wasn’t over yet.

****

The next day, The sun had barely crested the horizon, its pale golden light spilling across the palace grounds, when the first stirrings of the tournament day began.

Early morning mist clung to the cobblestones, curling around the boots of servants scurrying to prepare the arena and the grandstands.

Horns blared in the distance, sharp and regal, signaling the arrival of the nobility.

Carriages rolled through the gates, their wheels clattering over stone, drawn by sleek horses with manes braided in intricate patterns.

Dukes, duchesses, counts, and lesser lords disembarked one by one, their cloaks embroidered with family crests, their voices a low hum of anticipation and self-importance.

Velvet and silk rustled as they moved, jewels glinting in the dawn light, each noble vying subtly, or not so subtly, for attention.

The air buzzed with their presence, a mix of perfume, leather, and the faint metallic tang of polished armor worn more for show than combat.

The tournament was a spectacle, after all, and they’d come to be seen as much as to see.

Among the throng, one arrival stood apart, commanding the morning as if the sun itself rose at his bidding, the Duke of Hanan, Gon’s father.

He stepped from his carriage with a grace that belied his years, tall and lean, his frame cutting a striking silhouette against the pale sky.

His hair, a deep chestnut streaked with silver, was swept back into a tight ponytail, the ends brushing the collar of his dark green cloak.

A neatly trimmed mustache framed his upper lip, curling slightly at the edges, while a sharp goatee jutted from his chin, accentuating the hard lines of his face.

But it was his aura that truly set him apart, an electric, almost tangible force that rippled outward, as if the air itself bent to accommodate him.

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