SSS-Class MILFs And Their Yandere Daughters, I Want Them All!
Chapter 39: Reverse Scale

Chapter 39: Reverse Scale

Yelena stood perfectly still, her hand resting lightly on the edge of the hospital bed. Though the muscles in her jaw twitched slightly, her expression remained neutral, her eyes calm like the surface of a still lake.

But Mika, sitting close to her, could tell, he’d known her long enough, that underneath that serene exterior, she was seething.

It wasn’t often Yelena was angry.

But to have her precious time with Mika, her long-awaited chance to see him, hold him, check for herself that he was truly alright, rudely interrupted by a mob of insatiable reporters barging into her room?

It was infuriating...Anyone else in her position would have started shouting, waving their hands, and slamming the door in their faces.

But Yelena wasn’t "anyone else." She drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, centering herself.

Her voice came out smooth, polished, and neutral, carrying a quiet authority that made the closest few reporters flinch.

"I understand..." She began softly. "...that you all have jobs to do. It’s your duty to chase stories, to find the newest gossip and produce headlines that will catch the public’s attention. That’s how you make your living. I respect that."

Some of the reporters nodded slightly, cameras flashing as they continued taking pictures of her.

"But..." Yelena continued, her voice still polite, though there was a subtle edge to it now. "This isn’t the time for that. Right now is my family’s private time. Someone very important to us was sick, and we simply want to spend this moment together."

She offered them a faint smile, gracious, though strained.

"I’d appreciate it if you all backed off for now and left this room...Please."

There was a moment of stillness. A ripple of uncertainty passed through the crowd. Some seemed hesitant, even considering her request.

But then one reporter, a man with greasy hair and a sharp grin, stepped forward boldly, camera at the ready.

"Lady Yelena, one quick comment! Is this young man..." He jabbed his finger toward Mika "...romantically involved with you? Or is it your daughter he’s dating? The public has a right to know!"

Another woman chimed in eagerly, shoving her microphone so close that it nearly hit Charlotte’s cheek.

"Miss Charlotte, how long has this relationship been going on? Were you keeping it secret?"

"Is this young man the goddess’s secret lover?"

"Are you hiding a relationship from the public? Or is he just...your plaything behind closed doors?"

"Tell us, how far have things gone between you two? Are we talking hand-holding, kissing...or even further?"

Flashes erupted like a barrage of fireworks.

Mika’s brow twitched as the intrusive questions piled on.

Yelena’s smile tightened fractionally. Her tone, however, remained calm.

"Once again, I must remind you all that this is a private matter...I ask that you leave the room immediately so this doesn’t escalate into a larger issue."

Her eyes swept across the crowd, calm but unyielding.

"I’m even willing to hold a press session later in the lobby if you wish, as long as the questions don’t involve today’s incident. But for now, please...leave."

"Please..." She added, her voice soft yet firm.

It was a masterclass in diplomacy and seeing this, Mika couldn’t help but smile faintly.

’This is why she’s always the spokesperson for the battle angels.’ He thought. ’She was the most rational, the most level-headed.’

She was the one who dealt with the government, the royal families, the hunter guilds, the media outlets, the federation,any organization that required a steady, diplomatic hand.

While the others were brilliant in their own ways, they were also...eccentric. Quirky. Sometimes downright unpredictable.

Yelena, on the other hand, had become the de facto leader and spokesperson of the group, not because there was an official leader, but because she was the only one capable of handling these situations without starting a nationwide scandal.

But even as Yelena tried to de-escalate, the vultures in the room mistook her composure for weakness.

The greasy-haired man smirked thinking, ’She’s being so polite about it...she’s not really angry.’

Another reporter leaned in asking, "Lady Yelena, why are you here? Is there something scandalous happening in this hospital? Were you secretly visiting your lover?"

And this immidietly started another barrage of shameless and vulagar questions that had no place here at all.

"Is this young man the Blade Maiden’s hidden boyfriend?"

"Are you hiding a relationship from the public?"

"Did you personally teach him how to please a goddess?"

"Is he the one keeping you up all night, is that why you’ve been glowing recently?"

"Did he sleep in your bed last night? Or does he have his own room in your mansion?"

"Tell us honestly, are you training him to be your perfect little pet?"

"Does he wear a collar with your name on it? Be honest, the public deserves to know!"

"Have you let him touch your divine body yet? Or is that still forbidden for mortals?"

"Wait...are you planning to let him father a new generation of gods?"

Charlotte clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging into her palms as her teeth ground together.

’Mika’s...’ She bit her lip hard. ’My mother is trying so hard to stay polite. And these idiots...’

Mika’s patience was also starting to fray.

Over the years, he’d gotten used to these kinds of comments.

People always loved to gossip, to twist stories and whisper scandalous lies about things they didn’t understand. He’d always told himself to let it slide, to rise above it, because it wasn’t worth his energy.

But this time? Hearing them drag Charlotte and Yelena into their filth...it was too much.

Then came the final straw.

A short, stubby reporter with a smug grin shoved his microphone into Mika’s face.

"If you’re not the goddess’s daughter’s boyfriend..." He said, his voice oozing mockery. "Then what are you? Don’t tell me you’re the bastard son of some lover she had in secret."

"Are you the goddess’s illegitimate child she’s been hiding all these years?...Is that why she’s keeping you here?"

The room fell silent for a fraction of a second.

Then...The temperature dropped.

It wasn’t dramatic or flashy, there was no blizzard, no frost crawling across the walls. But everyone in the room felt it. A sudden, bone-deep chill that made the hairs on their necks stand on end.

Cameras lowered slightly. Fingers froze mid-press.

Yelena’s smile also disappeared as then all of sudden the dagger she had used suddenly lifted on its own, floating eerily in the air to everyone’s shock.

Seeing the dagger rise in the air, its sharpened edge catching the hospital light as though it were glinting with malice, the reporter who had asked that idiotic, mocking question felt his knees lock in place.

The dagger hovered in front of his face, its tip aimed directly between his eyes.

It didn’t shake. It didn’t falter. It floated perfectly steady, almost as if it had a life of its own and was considering whether his existence was worth sparing.

Seeing the dagger right in front of him, the man swallowed hard, his throat dry. The mocking grin from earlier was long gone, replaced with sheer terror.

And he wasn’t the only one.

The rest of the reporters went deathly still. Their confident voices, their intrusive questions, everything seemed to evaporate from their minds at once. Only one thought remained now:

We...messed up.

This wasn’t some actress or a local politician they were badgering for a scoop.

This wasn’t a person who had to grit their teeth and put up with media harassment.

This was Yelena Dimitrivitch Heavensblade.

A goddess...An existence so far above them they couldn’t even comprehend it.

She was someone who had chosen, out of pure humility and discipline, to show kindness to them, to address them politely, to treat them like they weren’t mere insects in her presence.

But she wasn’t obligated to.

And in this moment, they felt the chilling realization settle in:

If she wanted...She could kill us all in less than a heartbeat. And there’s nothing we could do to stop her.

The dagger inched closer to the man’s face.

He let out a shaky breath and stumbled back, his hands raised as if surrendering.

"I-I’m sorry...!" He stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of his fear. "I didn’t mean it like that! I-It was a mistake, I shouldn’t have asked such a question! Please forgive me!"

The other reporters immediately joined in, voices overlapping.

"We’re sorry!"

"It won’t happen again!"

"Please, Lady Yelena, we didn’t mean any disrespect—"

But the dagger didn’t stop.

With a swift motion, it darted forward.

The reporters screamed.

They thought their lives were over.

But instead of piercing flesh, there was a loud crack.

When they slowly opened their eyes hoping that none of their limbs were torn off the dagger had sliced clean through the man’s camera, shattering the lens and leaving the device in smoking ruins on the floor.

Before they could even process it, the dagger whipped around the room in a blur.

CRASH!

Another camera fell apart.

SNAP!

A microphone split cleanly in two.

CLATTER!

A voice recorder was cut to ribbons before it even hit the ground.

In a matter of seconds, every single recording device in the room, every camera, every mic, every scrap of their equipment, was reduced to useless debris.

Not a single reporter had been harmed.

But none of them felt relieved.

Because the dagger’s movements were deliberate. Precise. It wasn’t destroying their tools out of rage. It was sending a message:

"I could have just as easily destroyed you instead."

The dagger then fell to the floor with a metallic clang.

And then came her voice.

Soft. Cold. Icy enough to make the air feel heavy.

"You people..." Yelena said, her tone laced with sarcasm, as she stepped forward gracefully.

Her emerald eyes glowed faintly now, like shards of crystalline light. She stood next to Mika, her fingers gently brushing through his hair in a protective, almost maternal gesture.

"You really had the audacity..." She murmured, her voice deceptively calm. "to call my Mika things like...Illegitimate child? A Bastard Son?"

The man who had asked the question quaked where he stood, unable to even lift his head.

Charlotte, still seated near Mika, watched her mother with wide eyes. A slow, satisfied smile crept across her face as she whispered under her breath. "That’s my Mama..."

Yelena’s tone turned colder.

"I allowed you to ask your questions. I gave you chances to leave. I was polite, because I believed you deserved at least that much...But then you crossed a line."

She tilted her head slightly.

"I mean, do you even understand who you’re talking about?" Yelena’s voice trembled with restrained fury, her words like a blade barely sheathed. "Do you know who he is? Do you know who his mother is? Do you have the faintest idea what sort of person she was?"

"...Do you know that you wouldn’t even have these comfy jobs you have right now if it weren’t for his mother, since the world would’ve already been in ruins if it weren’t for her efforts!

Her glare could have shattered glass.

"And yet here you are, blaspheming him and his mother with those filthy tongues of yours, as though you even deserve to speak their names."

The reporters flinched, terror tightening their throats as they instinctively averted their eyes. Several began trembling outright, their knees threatening to give way.

Yelena took in their pitiful faces and, for a fleeting moment, felt the urge to unleash everything building in her chest.

But then...she caught herself.

’Tch. Why am I wasting even this much emotion on pawns like them?...They were probably were just sent by the Royal Families or the Federation just to pester us and don’t even know that they’re being played.’

A scoff escaped her lips, dripping with cold disdain. ’Pathetic. Utterly insignificant. I shouldn’t have let such idiots provoke me even for a heartbeat.’

With an exhale, she straightened her posture, her fury distilled into an icy calm that was somehow even more terrifying.

"Names..." Her voice dropped to a deadly softness, her eyes like sharpened steel. "I want the names of every last one of you. And the media outlets you work for...Right now."