Chapter 136 | What Am I Supposed To Do, Let You Go?
The Hero Association headquarters never slept.
Even at this hour, the corridors hummed with activity.
Heroes in armor strode through the hallways with confidence.
Support staff shuffled papers behind desks.
Jasmine Constance sat at her assigned workstation in the Silver-Rank Administrative Wing, her fingers moving mechanically across the keyboard.
A stack of dungeon clearance reports sat beside her elbow, each one requiring review and verification before being submitted to the central archive.
She was halfway through the seventh report when a familiar voice called out from behind her.
"Hey, Jasmine, did you see the morning broadcast?"
It was Darren, her colleague. A guy who had been trying to get with her since she started working here.
Jasmine didn’t look up. "I’ve been busy."
"You should check it out." Darren leaned against the edge of her desk, arms crossed. "That Ashford mess. You know, the noble family?"
Jasmine’s fingers paused on the keyboard. Just for a second. Then she resumed typing.
"What about them?"
"Turns out the bastard son he’s actually not as useless as everyone thought. The Ashford family thought he was useless and disowned him after burdening him with marrying three cripples." Darren whistled low.
Jasmine’s hands stopped moving completely.
"Three?"
"Three. And not just any three. The three crippled daughters from the Calloway, Vance, and Frost families." Darren shook his head slowly. "The ones from that SSS-rank dungeon disaster a few years back. The Crimson Valkyrie, the Shadow Saintess, and the Eternal Ice Princess."
He let out a low, pitying breath.
"The bastard son of the Ashford family, married to three crippled women. Dumped in some run-down bungalow in the outer district but he actually turned out not to be usless. He actually showed up in a C-rank dungeon outbreak and managed to deal with the disaster along with Aurora, Kinetic Man and a few heroes. A few heroes were even praising him that he saved them. "
Darren clicked his tongue. "I wonder what the Ashford family would do now that they’ve found out he’s no longer usless and actually at the superhuman realm."
Jasmine stared at the glowing screen in front of her. The text blurred.
She could feel her heartbeat in her throat.
’Dexter.’
The name screamed inside her skull but not a single sound left her lips.
She remembered him.
Of course she remembered him.
She was the one who had been there when the world told him he was nothing.
---
Five years ago.
Ashford Family Stable.
Jasmine had found him sitting on the edge of the roof, looking sad.
She had seen the way the other servants treated him and after she was done with her Servants duties, she run across the entire Place to find him.
When she reached the rooftop, she didn’t speak immediately. She simply walked over, sat down beside him, and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Not even the servants...," he had whispered. His voice was empty and hollow.
"Not just being a slave, I possess an f rank talent and lowr mana affinity. I can’t even absorb mana properly. I’ll never become a hero. I’ll never be anything. There’s no hope I can ever escape this place."
Jasmine had held him tighter.
"Your rank doesn’t define you, Dexter. You can leave anytime you wish. No one can stop you."
"You don’t understand—"
"I understand perfectly." She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. Her own were fierce. Burning. "I’ve watched you train for years. I’ve watched you push yourself harder than anyone else. Your affinity is low. So what? Talent is low, who cares?. But determination? Will?" She pressed her palm flat against his chest. "That can’t be taught. And you have more of it than anyone I’ve ever met."
For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes. A tiny ember of hope in the middle of a dying fire.
That was the day they became inseparable.
And now, standing in the present, standing in that same hallway with Darren’s words echoing in her ears, Jasmine felt that same ember burning inside her own chest.
---
"Jasmine?"
Darren’s voice snapped her back.
She blinked. Her hands were trembling slightly. She pressed them flat against the desk to still them.
"You okay?" Darren frowned, leaning closer. "You look pale."
"I’m fine." Her voice came out quieter than she intended. She cleared her throat and repeated herself, louder this time. "I’m fine. Just tired."
Darren studied her for a moment. He clearly didn’t believe her. But he knew better than to push a woman you’re trying to court.
"Anyway," he continued, straightening up, "the whole thing is a mess. The three families thought they were marrying the legitimate heir. Turns out the bastard was the firstborn. So they got scammed. Now they’re stuck with a disowned nobody living in the slums with their crippled daughters."
He laughed dryly.
"Can you imagine? Three former S-rank talents, reduced to... that?"
Jasmine’s jaw tightened.
"He’s not a nobody," she said quietly.
Darren blinked. "What?"
"Nothing." Jasmine turned back to her screen. "I need to finish these reports."
Darren shrugged and wandered back to his own desk.
Jasmine stared at the holographic text floating before her eyes. None of the words registered. Her mind had already drifted far away.
’Dexter... what happened to you?’
---
The rooftop. One year ago.
The last day she had seen him.
But everything else was different.
Dexter stood at the edge of the stable rooftop, his back to her.
"The marriage contract came through," he said. His voice was flat, emotionless.
"The family gave me two options. Accept the arrangement and leave the estate. Or refuse and.l remain here as a servant for the rest of my life."
Jasmine’s heart had trembled.
"Then refuse!" She said grimly.
"Dexter, refuse and come with me. We can leave this city. We can go somewhere far away. My family isn’t powerful, but we can—"
"Your family isn’t powerful." He turned to face her. His eyes were dead. "That’s exactly the point, Jasmine. If I run, the Ashfords will hunt us down. And your family cannot protect you from them. No one can."
"Then let them come!" Her voice cracked. As her eyes shook. "I don’t care about the Ashfords! I don’t care about any of them! I just want—"
"But I care."
His voice was so quiet she almost missed it.
He reached up and gently wiped a tear from her cheek.
"I care about what happens to you, Jasmine. And if I run, they will use you to get to me. They will hurt you. And I..." His voice faltered. "I can’t let that happen."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" she whispered. "Just... let you go?"